Chicago's Deadliest Mafia Boss Married A Toddler's Teddy Bear—3 Months Later At Her Mom's Wedding, She Pointed At The Door And Screamed 6 Words That Paralyzed The Entire Church!

The drive back to Chicago was a blur of adrenaline, rain, and screaming tires. We hit speeds exceeding one hundred and twenty miles per hour down Interstate 94, running through toll booths and ignoring police cruisers that didn't dare pursue a three-car convoy running blackout plates.

When my phone finally caught a signal tower near the Illinois border, it instantly erupted with twenty missed calls from Detective Harris and an urgent automated security breach alert from Blackwood Tower.

I hit the dial button for Harris. He answered on the first half-ring.

""Jack! Where the hell are you?!"" Harris shouted over the deafening scream of sirens in his background.

""Approaching the northern suburbs,"" I barked into the speaker. ""What happened at the tower?""

""A team of rogue tactical operators hit the building ten minutes ago! They weren't feds, Jack—they were wearing private security tactical gear, using high-grade breaching charges! They bypassed the lower thirty floors using an exterior window-washing rig!""

""Sarah and Lily?"" My voice shook with a lethal fury that made the driver glance nervously in the rearview mirror.

""They breached floor thirty! Your guards put up a fight—four of your men are down—but the safe room held! Sarah managed to lock the secondary blast doors from the inside! But Julian’s men have mounted thermite charges on the hinges. They're melting through the titanium as we speak!""

""Where are the police, Michael?"" I snarled.

""A false terrorist threat was called in at O'Hare Airport twenty minutes ago! Every emergency unit in the city was diverted north! It's a ghost town downtown, Jack! Julian orchestrated the whole damn thing!""

""I don't care about the city,"" I said, cocking my weapon with a sharp, brutal motion. ""I am five minutes away. Tell your officers to stay out of Blackwood Tower. What happens next is mafia business.""

I hung up before he could argue.

We entered the heart of Chicago like an artillery shell. The city streets were empty, slick with rain that reflected the garish neon lights of downtown. When the convoy skidded into the circular drive of Blackwood Tower, the revolving glass doors were shattered, sparkling fragments littering the marble lobby. Two of my outer perimeter guards lay wounded on the floor, being tended to by building staff.

""Vito, take four men and secure the lobby and the fire exits,"" I commanded, stepping over the shattered glass. ""The rest of you, with me on the freight elevator. Non-lethal rounds are off the table. Shoot to kill.""

The freight elevator rocketed toward the thirtieth floor. The silence inside the steel box was absolute, punctuated only by the steady, rhythmic breathing of my men and the clicking of assault rifle bolts.

Ding.

The doors parted.

The corridor was choked with white, acrid smoke smelling of burned metal and sulfur. Down the long hallway, four men in black body armor and balaclavas were gathered around the massive vault door that led into my private safe room. A dazzling, blinding spark of white-hot thermite was eating through the top reinforced steel hinge.

Beside them stood Julian Bennett. He had shed his wedding suit, now wearing a tactical vest over a dark sweater. In his hand, he held a remote detonator.

""Julian!"" I roared down the smoke-filled hallway.

The four mercenaries turned instantly, raising their submachine guns.

My team fired first.

A deafening roar of gunfire tore through the luxury penthouse corridor. Plaster, shattered wood paneling, and copper shell casings rained everywhere. Two of Julian's mercenaries were dropped instantly, their armor shredded by heavy rifle rounds. The other two dove behind decorative marble pillars, returning fire with frantic bursts of automatic rounds that chipped chunks of stone inches above my head.

""Cover me!"" I yelled.

I charged forward through the smoke like an enraged bull, ignoring the bullets snapping past my ears. One of the surviving gunmen popped out from behind a pillar to reload; I closed the distance in two strides, grabbed the barrel of his rifle, twisted it violently to snap his wrist, and buried my combat knife into his armpit seam. He dropped with a choked gurgle.

The fourth mercenary panicked, turning to run toward the fire escape, but Vito picked him off with a double-tap through the center of his chest.

Julian stood alone in front of the melted safe room door.

He didn't run. He didn't even drop the detonator. Instead, he smiled—that same arrogant, theatrical smirk that had sickened me at the church.

""Always so dramatic, Jackson,"" Julian chuckled, wiping soot from his cheek. ""You're too late, you know. The thermite already severed the electronic lock. All I have to do is push this door open.""

""Drop the detonator, Julian,"" I said, raising my .45 directly at the bridge of his nose. ""Your men are dead. Maria gave up your servers in Kenosha. The feds have nothing on me, and Daniel is gone. You have nowhere left to run.""

Julian’s smirk widened into a grotesque laugh. ""You really think I came back for money, Jack? You think I gave a damn about the port, or the ledgers, or Daniel? I came back because Sarah dared to replace me. She dared to find a boring, soft little man, and she dared to let Chicago's greatest monster raise my bloodline.""

He reached out his left hand and shoved the heavy safe room door.

The charred titanium groaned and swung inward.

Inside the dimly lit room, Sarah was huddled in the far corner, shielding Lily with her entire body. Mark stood in front of them with an empty fire extinguisher raised like a club, his hands trembling violently.

""Daddy!"" Lily’s voice piped up from beneath Sarah’s arm.

Julian looked down at his daughter, his eyes softening with a disturbing, possessive madness. ""Come here, Lily. Come to Daddy. We're going on a long trip.""

Lily looked at him. Then she looked down at the floor, where her beloved stuffed bear was lying near Julian's boots, having fallen during the panic.

Julian casually stepped on the bear, grinding the dirty cloth into the blood-stained carpet beneath his heel.