Chapter 13 - The Prodigal Son
Vincent drove his armored SUV through the rusted gates of the abandoned meatpacking plant.
The massive brick building looked like a decaying monument to a forgotten era of Chicago.
It was exactly the kind of place his father used to conduct his most brutal interrogations.
Vincent stepped out of the vehicle and kept his hand hovering near the pistol inside his jacket.
Four heavily armed men stepped out of the shadows and surrounded him instantly.
They patted him down and confiscated his weapon without saying a single word.
They did not find the GPS tracker Hannah had sewn into the lining of his collar.
Vincent was forcefully shoved through the heavy metal doors into the freezing factory floor.
At the center of the massive room sat a man in a pristine white suit.
Lorenzo Caruso was seventy years old but he still radiated the terrifying aura of an apex predator.
He had a thick white beard and a jagged scar running down the left side of his face.
Lorenzo did not stand up to hug his only son.
He simply pointed to a rusted metal chair across from him and ordered Vincent to sit down.
Vincent remained standing and stared at the ghost who had ruined his childhood.
He asked his father where he had been for the last two decades.
Lorenzo laughed a cruel and hollow laugh that echoed off the cold tiles.
He explained that he had faked his death to avoid a federal indictment that would have ruined the family.
He had spent twenty years building an invisible empire in South America while waiting for Vincent to mature.
He had expected Vincent to expand the Caruso territory and become the king of the American underworld.
Instead he had watched in absolute disgust as Vincent surrendered everything for a naive seamstress.
Lorenzo slammed his fist on the metal table and demanded the foundation's billions be returned to the syndicate.
He told Vincent that charity was a disease that infected weak men.
Vincent looked at the old man and felt absolutely nothing but pity.
He told his father that the mafia life was a pathetic illusion that only led to death or a prison cell.
He said Hannah had saved his soul and he would never apologize for choosing love over blood.
Lorenzo sneered and signaled to one of his heavily armed guards.
The guard rolled out a television monitor that displayed a live feed of Vincent's quiet estate.
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Lorenzo smiled and said he knew Vincent would never surrender the money willingly.
He pulled out a radio and ordered his strike team to breach the house and execute the seamstress.
