Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Syndicate
Victor moved through the shadows of the warehouse like a butcher finishing his shift.
Every shot from his weapon found its mark. When a gunman tried to ambush him from behind a rusted forklift, Victor sidestepped the burst, grabbed the man's rifle barrel, snapped his wrist with a sickening crack, and drove him face-first into the concrete floor.
""Where is she?"" Victor demanded, his knee pinned to the man’s spine.
The man spat blood. ""You're too late, Rinaldi. Vance already called the commission. By sunrise, your territory belongs to him.""
Victor didn't waste another second. He pressed his weapon to the back of the man's skull, fired once, and stepped over the body.
Above on the catwalk, Nora watched the carnage with wide, horrified eyes.
This was the man she had made breakfast for. This was the man who had kissed her forehead when she was exhausted after eighteen hours of labor. The cold, mechanical violence he displayed was not the work of a distracted businessman—it was the work of Chicago’s undisputed overlord.
""Nora!"" Victor’s voice tore through the cavernous space. It wasn't the commanding shout of a mob boss. It was cracked, desperate, and trembling. ""Nora, please! If you can hear me... Leo needs his medicine! I have the spare compressor in the truck!""
Nora clutched the twins closer. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Could she trust him? Was this another trick? Sylvia’s voice echoed in her head: He thinks you're weak, Nora. He's replacing you with me.
She stood up slowly, her knees shaking, and stepped out onto the metal railing of the catwalk. She leveled the captured pistol directly at Victor’s chest.
""Stop right there, Victor!"" she screamed, her voice echoing off the corrugated iron roof.
Victor froze instantly.
He slowly lowered his weapon, dropping it to the wet concrete with a clatter. He raised both hands in the air, his coat flapping in the icy wind blowing through the broken doors.
He looked up at her. In the beam of the work lights, Nora saw his face. His cheeks were hollowed by terror, his eyes red-rimmed, his lips blue from the freezing storm. There was no arrogance in him. No shadow of the mistress. Only an agonizing, gut-wrenching grief.
""Nora,"" he breathed, his voice barely audible over the wind. ""Don't shoot. Please. Just... let me save Leo.""
""Stay back!"" she sobbed, her finger trembling against the trigger. ""Sylvia sent me the photos, Victor! She told me you were going to take them away from me! She told me you were ashamed of them because they were born weak!""
Victor looked at her as if he had been struck with an axe. ""Ashamed? Nora, I burned half the city down tonight just to find a cracked medicine bottle on the road. Sylvia Vance is a liar. Her father set this entire ambush to destroy us.""
He took one slow step toward the stairs.
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""Don't move!"" she yelled.
""Shoot me if you have to,"" Victor said, his voice breaking as tears cut clean lines through the dirt on his face. ""Kill me for being a fool. Kill me for ever letting another woman into my orbit. But take my coat. Take the compressor in my car. If Leo dies, you won't have to pull that trigger—I'll end myself right here.""
