Chapter 4 - The War for Federal Hill
The peace inside Room 314 was shattered twenty minutes later by the sharp, frantic ringing of Victor’s encrypted cell phone.
Victor answered on the first ring, listening in silence as his head of security, Marco, spoke urgently on the other end.
"Boss," Marco’s voice bled through the speaker, tight with alarm. "Julian Vane just mobilized his enforcers. They realized you bought the debt portfolio. They're surrounding Marchetti’s on Atwells Avenue right now. They've got gasoline cans."
Victor’s eyes turned to cold, liquid steel. "Evacuate the kitchen staff. Do not fire unless fired upon."
"They aren't just targeting the restaurant, Boss," Marco added, his voice shaking slightly. "Vane knows Karen Delaney is with you. He put a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bounty on her head. He wants her dead before she can sign the debt transfer documents at the courthouse today."
Victor ended the call and tossed his phone onto the table.
He turned to Karen, who was holding her mother’s hands, her eyes wide with fear.
"We have to go," Victor said flatly.
"Where?" Karen asked. "If Julian Vane is hunting me—"
"He isn't hunting you in my city," Victor said coldly. He turned to his primary bodyguard, a broad-shouldered man named Leo standing at the door. "Leo, secure Mrs. Delaney in the underground safe room at Rhode Island Hospital under full tactical guard. Nobody enters without my thumbprint."
"Yes, Boss," Leo nodded, moving instantly to secure Faye’s wheelchair.
Karen stood up, her hands trembling as she looked at Victor. "What about us?"
Victor reached inside his coat, pulled out a small, sleek black pistol, checked the magazine with a sharp, practiced click, and re-holstered it beneath his jacket.
"You and I are going to Marchetti’s," Victor said, extending his hand to her once again. "Julian Vane thinks he can burn my restaurant to cover his debts. It’s time I remind Federal Hill why my family’s dragon is the only mark that matters."
Ten minutes later, the armored Maybach tore through the rainy streets of Providence, its engine roaring like a caged beast.
Inside the vehicle, Karen sat beside Victor as he coordinated three different security teams over his radio. Despite the impending violence, despite the gun sitting beneath his coat, Victor’s presence was strangely comforting. He didn't look frantic. He looked like an apex predator returning to his hunting grounds.
"Why are you doing this for me?" Karen asked softly over the rumble of the engine. "You could have just given me a check. You could have sent me to Europe. You don't have to risk your life for a cleaning lady."
Victor stopped typing on his tablet, turning his dark, handsome face to look at her.
"When I held your sister in that ravine two years ago, I swore I would clean the blood off my family's name," Victor said, his voice dropping into a tender, intimate tone that made her breath catch. "For two years, I thought I was doing it out of duty. But last night... when I saw you standing in my kitchen, refusing to break even when your world was falling apart... I realized something."
He reached out, his broad, warm fingers gently cupping her jawline, his thumb stroking her soft skin.
"You aren't just a cleaning lady, Karen," Victor whispered, his amber eyes locking onto hers with an absolute, terrifying devotion. "You are the strongest woman I have ever met. And as long as I have breath in my body, nobody in this city will ever make you cry again."
Karen stared into his eyes, feeling a strange, breathtaking heat bloom in her chest.
For eleven months, she had been a number—Employee 317. She had been invisible, broken, discarded by a cold world. But sitting beside this dangerous, powerful man, she didn't feel invisible anymore. She felt seen. She felt protected.
May you like
She reached up, covering his heavy hand with her own, feeling the solid rhythm of his pulse beneath his wrist.
"Then let's go finish this, Victor," Karen said, her voice filled with a fierce new strength.
