Chapter 6 - Whispers in the Boardroom
The news of the impending showdown spread through Chicago's underground like wildfire. Rumors swirled through smoky private clubs and quiet backrooms: August Sartori had gone rogue over a banquet waitress, while Ray Howerin was assembling the old guard to seize control of the billion-dollar waterfront redevelopment.
Inside the Sartori estate, Willa found it impossible to sleep. Wrapped in a heavy silk robe provided by the household, she wandered into the second-floor gallery past midnight. A soft sliver of light spilled from August's private office.
Curiosity overriding caution, she stepped toward the threshold.
August was seated behind his massive desk, sleeves rolled up, reviewing blueprinted building plans. Beside him was a stack of legal documents. He looked up the second her shadow crossed the floorboards.
"You should be resting, Willa," he said, setting his pen down.
"So should you," she replied, stepping into the room. "What are those?"
"Building inspection reports," August answered, turning the blueprints toward her. "Not just the Grand Ballroom. Every commercial property Pike and Howerin have touched over the last seven years. Schools. Community centers. Retirement housing. The cheap concrete, the corroded rebar, the falsified stress tests. Pike took thirty percent kickbacks on every foundation."
Willa stared at the documents, horror creeping into her chest. "They built death traps across half the city."
"Yes," August said darkly. "My grandfather built foundations meant to last centuries. Ray Howerin builds coffins and calls it profit margins. When my father died, I made a promise to clean this rot out of our operations. But the board resisted. They like the quick money."
He looked at her, his dark eyes softening in a way that made Willa’s breath hitch. "You gave me the weapon I needed, Willa. That video isn't just leverage against Pike; it’s the key to dismantling Howerin’s entire network without firing a single shot in the streets."
"Then why do you look so worried?"
"Because tomorrow night, Howerin won't fight fair," August said, rising to his feet and walking around the desk toward her. He stood only inches away, his presence towering yet surprisingly protective. "He knows the law can't protect him once this evidence goes public. He will try to kill you before you can testify to the council."
May you like
Willa felt her pulse race, but she held his gaze. "I'm not afraid of him, August."
August reached out, his thumb lightly grazing the edge of her jawline, brushing away a stray lock of hair. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver straight down her spine. "I know you're not," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken emotion. "That’s what terrifies me."
