Chapter 4 - The City Shuts Down
By 2:00 AM, Milwaukee had become an armed camp.
Roman stood in his private war room beneath the historic warehouse district, surrounded by twelve of his highest-ranking capos. Maps of Wisconsin, Illinois, and Michigan were projected across massive wall-mounted monitors. Red tracking lines flared and flickered as traffic camera feeds from every highway intersection were scrubbed by his cyber-analysts.
""Talk to me!"" Roman slammed his fist onto the solid steel conference table, the sound reverberating like an explosion. ""How does a woman who had a C-section six days ago vanish off a twenty-acre estate with an infant?""
Marco kept his head bowed, sweat dripping down his temple. ""Boss... the rear security sensors were disabled from the inside. At 10:15 PM. She used the utility conduit leading to the old canal line.""
""And who gave her the override codes?"" Roman demanded, stepping toward Marco until his face was inches away, his voice dropping into a lethal, venomous hiss. ""Who helped her?""
""Nobody inside the estate, Boss,"" Marco whispered. ""The logs show the master admin code was used. Your private bypass.""
Roman closed his eyes. The memory hit him like a physical blow: sitting in the hospital room while Aaron held Sophie to her breast, casually typing his bypass password to check his emails while Aaron watched from the pillows with those quiet, exhausted hazel eyes. She had memorized it. While he was mentally checking out to plan Laya’s dinner, Aaron had been observing his every move.
""Every bridge out of the city is blocked,"" another lieutenant offered cautiously. ""We have men watching the Amtrak station, Mitchell Airport, and the private airfields in Waukesha. No woman matching her description has purchased a ticket.""
""She’s not on a plane, you idiot!"" Roman snarled. ""She knows I own the airport authority! She’s ground-level. She’s hiding in a safehouse.""
The heavy oak doors of the war room swung open. Laya Crane stepped in, wrapped in an emerald silk trench coat, her diamond earrings catching the overhead fluorescents. She looked annoyed, her pouty lips drawn tight.
""Roman, what is the meaning of this?"" she demanded, ignoring the hardened men in the room. ""Your goons dragged me out of my penthouse suite. They told me I couldn't leave the city! Have you lost your mind?""
Roman turned around slowly. His eyes were bloodshot, his tie loose, his suit jacket discarded. When he looked at Laya, the blind infatuation that had clouded his judgment for two years suddenly snapped like dry kindling.
He didn't see an alluring, high-society darling. He saw the parasite that had eaten away at the foundation of his home.
""Did you call my wife tonight?"" Roman asked softly.
Laya blinked, a brief flicker of panic flashing behind her painted eyes before she composed herself. ""What? Of course not. Why would I talk to that boring little mouse?""
Roman crossed the room in two strides. He caught her by the throat, pinning her against the doorframe. The capos looked down at the floor instantly; no one dared interfere.
""Roman!"" she choked out, clawing at his fingers.
""Do not lie to me,"" Roman whispered, his face inches from hers, terrifyingly calm. ""I pulled the carrier logs five minutes ago. A voicemail was forwarded to Aaron’s phone at 10:04 PM from a spoofed line registered to your publicist’s firm. You played her an audio clip from our dinner.""
Laya’s face flushed purple. ""She... she needed to know her place, Roman! You belong to me! You promised—""
""I promised to bury anyone who touched my family,"" Roman hissed. He shoved her away with such disgust that she collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. ""You thought this was a game? You thought driving my wife and daughter into the freezing dark was a clever move in your social climb?""
""Roman, please..."" she sobbed, backing away on her hands and knees. ""I love you!""
""Marco,"" Roman barked without looking at her. ""Take her penthouse. Seize her cars. Freeze every account funded by my payroll. And put her in a holding cell until my daughter is back in her crib. If a single hair on Sophie’s head is harmed by the cold, Laya Crane won't live to see next week.""
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Two guards dragged the screaming woman out of the room. Roman turned back to the tactical map, his chest aching with a hollow terror that was swallowing him whole.
""Where are you, Aaron?"" he whispered to the empty air. ""Where did you take my baby?""
