Chapter 4 - The Hunt in the Dark
Back in Chicago, the Moretti family headquarters was bathed in the red glow of emergency terminal displays.
Vincent paced the marble floors like a caged beast, a crystal glass of untouched bourbon sweating on his mahogany desk.
"Three days, Marco!" Vincent roared, turning on his security chief with murder in his eyes.
"Three days and you haven't given me a single operational lead! Where did he take her?!"
Marco stood at attention, his face pale and beaded with sweat.
"Boss, Dante’s network isn't operating on domestic channels. He has backing from the Corsican syndicates and private military logistics firms in Geneva."
Before Vincent could speak, the double mahogany doors opened, and Sophia walked into the executive study.
She wore a delicate black cashmere dress, looking frail and tearful, carrying a porcelain tray of herbal tea.
"Vincent, darling," Sophia murmured, setting the tray on the desk and stepping close to wrap her arms around his waist.
"You haven't slept in seventy-two hours. Please, sit down. Let the police handle Claire."
Vincent pulled away from her touch with cold, abrupt force, leaving Sophia blinking in startled shock.
"The police don't handle Moretti business, Sophia," Vincent said coldly, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the Chicago rain.
"Claire was my wife. She was carrying my blood."
"She abandoned you, Vincent!" Sophia pleaded, stepping in front of him with desperate urgency.
"She jumped in a car with a traitor who tried to murder your father four years ago! She never loved you the way I do!"
Vincent’s phone chimed with a private encrypted alert.
A single video file landed in his inbox, originating from an IP address routed through an untraceable server in Zurich.
Vincent clicked the link.
The screen opened to reveal Dante Moretti sitting behind a polished granite desk in an undisclosed location.
"Hello, little brother," Dante spoke calmly into the lens.
"If you want to see Claire alive again, bring Sophia Reynolds to the old grain silos at the Calumet River tomorrow at midnight. Come alone, or I send the arson forensics directly to the federal grand jury."
The video cut to black.
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Vincent’s hand shook so violently that his phone clattered against the desk.
Sophia took a sharp step backward, her breath hitching in her throat as Vincent slowly turned to face her, his eyes hardening into twin shards of black ice.
