Chapter 3 - Descent into Chicago
Forty minutes later, Flight 412 began its final, steep descent into O’Hare International Airport through a thick blanket of gray autumn fog.
The cabin lights flickered off and on as the aircraft banked sharply over Lake Michigan. Inside the cordoned-off first-class section, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken war. Vincent had spent the remaining duration of the flight on a secure satellite phone, quietly issuing orders to his syndicate captains across three states. Bank accounts were frozen, safehouses were prepped, and an entire tactical squad of loyal Moretti operatives was mobilized to intercept the plane upon landing.
Leah sat quietly in her seat, her hand tightly holding Maya’s small, warm fingers as the little girl finally blinked awake, rubbing her eyes against the cabin lights.
“Are we at Aunt Celia’s yet, Leah?” Maya mumbled sleepily, hugging her battered stuffed rabbit.
“Almost, sweetie,” Leah whispered, kissing the top of her sister’s head while keeping a wary eye on the towering men in suits standing guard near the bulkhead.
Vincent walked down the aisle, crouching beside Leah’s seat so they were at eye level. His intimidating aura had softened into something resembling paternal gravity.
“Leah,” Vincent said quietly. “When we touch down, the federal marshals and airport security are going to meet the plane because of the security breach. But waiting outside the private hangar will be my people. They’re going to take you, your sister, and your luggage to a secure location where you will be entirely safe while we find your mother.”
Leah looked deep into his eyes. She didn't know if she could trust a mafia boss, but looking at how gently he was currently cradling his own sleeping infant son, she knew he meant every word.
“Are you going to find her?” Leah asked, her voice cracking with desperate hope.
“I built an empire on finding people who don't want to be found,” Vincent promised, his voice hard as iron. “If Elena Vance is still breathing on this earth, I will bring her back to you. You have my word.”
As the landing gear slammed down onto the tarmac with a loud, metallic thud and the jet engines roared into reverse thrust, the plane jolted forward. Within moments, the flight touched down smoothly, taxiing away from the main terminal toward a private executive aviation apron surrounded by dark, unmarked SUVs.
When the cabin door opened, local airport authorities attempted to board, but they were immediately blocked by federal badges and Vincent’s elite security detail, who smoothly coordinated a private exit for the VIP passengers.
Vincent scooped up his infant son with one arm, extended his free hand toward Leah, and helped her guide Maya down the carpeted aircraft stairs into the crisp, biting Chicago air.
A black armored Lincoln navigator waited right at the base of the steps.
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As Leah slid into the plush leather interior alongside her sister, she looked back out the window. Vincent stood on the tarmac, handing his baby to a trusted nurse while pulling a encrypted burner phone from his coat pocket, his face locked in an expression of absolute, terrifying resolve.
The hunt for Elena Vance had officially begun. And the men who took her had no idea what kind of monster they had just awakened.
