Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the Arden Family
Four hours later, the neonate intensive care unit (NICU) was quiet except for the hum of incubators and monitors.
Dominic stood outside the glass window of Incubator 12, dressed in a black suit, staring down at his newborn son.
The infant weighed less than four pounds. Tiny tubes were taped to his nose, and a heart monitor strap was wrapped around his wrist, but he was breathing on his own. He had a faint tuft of dark hair—just like Dominic’s.
"He's a fighter, Mr. Vascari," a soft voice spoke behind him.
Dominic turned. Dr. Chen walked up, carrying a medical chart.
"How is Mara?" Dominic asked immediately, his eyes dark with worry.
"She’s out of surgery and resting in the Intensive Care Unit," Dr. Chen replied. "We repaired her spleen and stopped the internal bleeding. She lost a lot of blood, and she’s currently in a medically induced coma to help her body recover. But she’s stable. She survived the night, Dominic. Both of them did."
Dominic let out a long breath he felt like he’s been holding for eight months. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Don't thank me yet," Dr. Chen said, dropping his voice to a low murmur. "The police are downstairs in the lobby. They're asking questions about the collision. The taxi driver gave a statement before he went into surgery—he said a heavy black SUV deliberately ran them off the road into a concrete barrier."
Dominic’s jaw set into a hard, stone line. "Tell the police it was a hit-and-run. My men will handle the rest."
Dr. Chen looked into Dominic’s eyes, seeing the dark, ancient violence swirling within them, and wisely chose not to ask any further questions. "I'll update you when Mara starts waking up."
Dominic walked down the secure hallway toward the private wing, where Marco was waiting outside Mara’s ICU room. Four armed Vascari soldiers stood guard at every corner, their coats slightly open, revealing handguns holstered beneath.
"Boss," Marco stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. "We tracked the black SUV. It was dumped in a river near the docks, burned to the chassis. But we caught the driver."
Dominic stopped. "Who is he?"
"A hitman named Silvio," Marco answered. "He’s on the payroll of Victor Arden—Celeste’s father. We brought him to the warehouse on 4th Street. He’s tied to a chair right now."
Dominic slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket, taking off his gold wristwatch and placing it in Marco’s hand.
"Keep eight men on this floor," Dominic commanded. "Nobody enters Mara’s room except Dr. Chen and the head nurse. If an Arden man comes within fifty feet of this building, shoot them on sight."
"Understood, Boss. Where are you going?"
"I'm going to pay Victor Arden a visit," Dominic said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, which made it ten times more terrifying. "He tried to extinguish the Vascari bloodline tonight. It’s time I remind Chicago why my father called me the Reaper."
Twenty minutes later, a fleet of six black Cadillac Escalades tore through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago, pulling up outside the grand wrought-iron gates of the Arden Estate in Gold Coast.
The heavy steel gates didn't open. Two Arden guards stepped out of the guardhouse, holding shotguns.
"This is private property!" one guard yelled over the rain. "Turn around!"
Dominic didn't slow down. He sat in the passenger seat of the lead Escalade, his eyes fixed on the front doors of the mansion.
"Ram it," Dominic said quietly.
CRASH!
The heavy armored Escalade smashed straight through the iron gates, tearing them off their hinges with a deafening metallic screech. The SUV roared up the long cobblestone driveway, stopping right on the front lawn.
Dominic stepped out into the pouring rain, holding an automatic shotgun in his right hand. Fifty Vascari enforcers spilled out of the other vehicles behind him, drawing their weapons and breaching the front doors of the mansion.
Shouts, glass breaking, and quick gunshots echoed from inside the estate as the Arden security force was dismantled within ninety seconds.
Dominic strode calmly into the grand foyer, where grand chandeliers lit up marble floors now covered in broken glass and defeated guards.
Standing at the top of the curved marble staircase was Victor Arden—a silver-haired man in his sixties, dressed in a silk robe, holding a silver revolver with shaking hands.
"Vascari!" Victor shouted, his voice quavering with rage and fear. "Have you lost your mind?! You breach my home?! This is a violation of the Syndicate Council charter!"
Dominic walked to the base of the stairs, racking a shell into the chamber of his shotgun with a heavy CLACK.
"Your daughter hired a hitman to murder my pregnant wife tonight, Victor," Dominic said, his slate eyes reflecting the warm light of the chandelier. "And you supplied the weapon."
Victor’s face drained of color. "What... what are you talking about? Celeste is at dinner with you!"
"Celeste is currently locked in my cellar," Dominic replied coldly. "And her hitman, Silvio, just sang like a bird before my men broke his legs. He said you paid him fifty thousand dollars to ensure Mara Vascari never reached the hospital alive."
Victor’s hand trembled so violently he almost dropped his revolver. "It... it was for the family, Dominic! Mara was a nobody! She ruined the merger! If you married Celeste, our families would control the entire Midwest!"
Dominic pointed the barrel of his shotgun straight at Victor’s heart.
"You have one hour to sign over all Arden shipping routes, docks, and real estate to the Vascari family," Dominic said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "You will pack your bags, take your remaining men, and leave Chicago forever. If I ever see your face in this city again... I won't use a gun. I'll burn you alive."
Victor stared at Dominic, realizing that the young Don standing before him wasn't negotiating. He was granting mercy—the only mercy Victor would ever receive.
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"And... and Celeste?" Victor whimpered, his pride completely shattered.
"Celeste belongs to me now," Dominic said, turning his back on Victor and walking toward the shattered front doors. "And she will spend the rest of her life paying for every drop of blood my wife shed tonight."
