Chapter 8 - The Viper Unmasked
Inside the subterranean interrogation room beneath the Barrington Hills compound, the air was thick with tension and the sharp smell of cold concrete.
Six men—four security guards and two senior staff members—stood lined up against the wall, their hands zip-tied behind their backs. Marko stood beside the iron door holding a tactical baton, his face grim.
Dominic sat on a wooden chair in the center of the room, playing with a small silver lighter, flicking the flame open and closed in the dark room.
Flick. Snap. Flick. Snap.
"One of you took five hundred thousand dollars from Victor Whitmore yesterday," Dominic spoke quietly, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. "One of you put a tracking beacon on my vehicle and put my staff in danger."
No one spoke. The men trembled, sweat pouring down their foreheads.
I stood in the shadows near the corner, watching their body language, their eyes, their subtle physical reactions.
"If the person responsible steps forward now," Dominic continued, stopping the lighter, "I will let you walk out of this state alive. If I have to find out myself... Marko will spend the next three days in this room with you."
"Boss, I swear to God it wasn't me!" one of the younger guards sobbed, his knees shaking. "I've worked for your family for six years!"
I stepped out of the shadows, walking slowly past the line of men.
I stopped in front of Thomas—the senior IT technician who managed the compound’s surveillance cameras.
Thomas didn't look at me. His eyes were darting rapidly toward the floor, his breathing short and shallow, a subtle pulse fluttering wildly on the right side of his neck.
I leaned close to his ear. "Where is your wife, Thomas?"
Thomas flinched violently. "What? My... my wife is at home in Naperville."
"No, she isn't," I said smoothly, pulling my phone from my pocket and opening a secure medical registry file. "Your wife was admitted to the Mayo Clinic three days ago for stage-four pancreatic cancer. Experimental treatment costs seven hundred thousand dollars."
Thomas dropped to his knees, his entire body breaking down into hysterical, terrified sobs.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Mr. Moretti!" Thomas wept, slamming his forehead against the concrete floor. "They contacted me four days ago! They said if I didn't place the tracker, they would turn off my wife's life-support machinery at the hospital! They threatened her!"
Dominic stood up slowly from his chair. He walked over, standing above the weeping technician.
Marko stepped forward, raising his baton, but I stepped into his path, raising my hand.
"Wait," I said firmly, looking at Dominic. "He didn't do it for greed. He did it because Whitmore forced him."
"A betrayal is a betrayal, Avery," Dominic said coldly, his hand reaching inside his suit jacket.
"If you kill him, Whitmore will know the attack failed," I argued, stepping between Dominic and the kneeling man. "Use him, Dominic! Let Whitmore think his hit squad succeeded! Let him think you're wounded or dead!"
Dominic stopped, his hand resting on the grip of his gun inside his jacket. He stared at me, evaluating my logic, calculating the tactical advantage.
"If Whitmore believes you're dead," I continued, my voice sharp and persuasive, "he will bring the master ledger to the Chicago summit tomorrow night to claim total control of the syndicate. He won't expect a strike team. He won't expect us."
Dominic looked down at Thomas, then brought his gaze back to my face. A long, intense silence filled the interrogation room.
Slowly, Dominic withdrew his hand from his jacket, snapping it shut.
"Marko," Dominic commanded. "Put Thomas in a secure room. Give him a encrypted phone. Have him call Victor Whitmore and report that the compound was destroyed and Dominic Moretti is dead."
"Yes, Boss," Marko nodded.
May you like
Dominic walked up to me, standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
"You have a sharp mind, Avery Carter," Dominic whispered, a dark, dangerous pride shining in his eyes. "Tomorrow night, we burn the Whitmore empire to the ground."
