Chapter 10 - The Chicago Threat
The studio lights of the estate’s newly converted home office hummed quietly as Dominic paced across the Persian rug, his boots clicking rhythmically against the hardwood.
Isabella stood near the doorway, holding a cup of untouched tea, her heart hammering against her ribs. The illusion of safety they had built over the spring was fracturing before their eyes.
“Who was on the phone?” Isabella asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“The Outfit in Chicago,” Dominic said, his voice hard as iron. He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Vincenzo wasn't acting alone when he tried to take over the Boston docks. He was a proxy for the Chicago syndicate—specifically, a capo named Marcus Vance’s old associate, Dante Moretti’s rival, a man named Carmine Rossi.”
Isabella’s breath hitched. “Rossi? I thought he was locked away in federal prison.”
“He was,” Dominic said darkly, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the leather chair. “Which means someone on the inside let him out, or his lieutenants are operating with federal protection. Either way, they know we’ve liquidated our assets. They think we’re vulnerable.”
“What do they want?”
“Everything,” Dominic replied, his eyes narrowing. “They want the shipping routes, they want the real estate portfolio, and most importantly, they want to send a message to anyone trying to leave the syndicate. They think blood debts never expire.”
Before Isabella could reply, the heavy front oak door of the mansion rattled violently.
Marcus, who had been stationed at the security gatehouse, burst through the interior hallway door, his face pale and breathing heavily.
“Boss! We’ve got incoming!” Marcus yelled, pulling a heavy Glock from his waistband. “Three black sedans just blew past the front security perimeter without stopping! They’re coming up the drive!”
Dominic didn't panic. The cold, calculating instinct of Boston’s most feared predator instantly reawakened. But this time, he wasn't protecting a territory—he was protecting his family.
“Marcus, get Isabella and the children down into the secure panic room behind the wine cellar immediately,” Dominic ordered, his voice ringing with absolute authority.
“No! I’m not running, Dominic!” Isabella protested, stepping forward. “We stay together!”
“Listen to me, Isabella!” Dominic shouted, closing the distance between them and grabbing her by the shoulders, his eyes fierce and desperate. “This isn't a local hit squad. This is a professional extraction crew sent by Chicago. If they get inside this house, they won't negotiate. You have to take Leo and Lily downstairs. That is the only way I can fight them without looking over my shoulder.”
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Isabella looked into his eyes and saw the terrifying truth. She nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “Be careful.”
As Isabella sprinted down the hall to gather the children, Dominic pulled his own weapon from his holster, racked the slide with a sharp metallic clack, and walked out into the grand foyer to meet the storm.
