Chapter 12 - The Invisible Threat
Within ten minutes, Everett Kane arrived at the downtown clinic in a convoy of heavily armored black SUVs.
Dozens of elite, highly trained guards flooded the building, immediately locking down all the exits and securing the perimeter.
Everett walked through the lobby, his dark suit impeccable, his face a terrifying, emotionless mask of pure, calculated rage.
He looked down at the dead man on the floor, recognizing the black serpent tattoo instantly.
"Marco," Everett commanded, his voice a low, lethal timber that echoed through the quiet room.
"Move this body to our private medical examiner and scrub the clinic security footage."
Marco nodded grimly, gesturing for his men to swiftly and silently remove the terrible evidence.
Everett turned to Willa, his cold eyes instantly softening with absolute, overwhelming love and deep concern.
He pulled her flush against his chest, wrapping his strong arms securely around her trembling frame.
"Are you hurt?" Everett whispered, pressing a desperate kiss against the top of her head.
"I am fine, Everett," Willa replied, burying her face in his warm, protective embrace.
"But he said Marcus Thorne is coming for me."
Everett’s jaw tightened, a dangerous, murderous fire igniting deep within his soul.
"He will never get within a hundred miles of you, Willa," Everett promised fiercely.
He immediately ordered the entire Kane estate to be placed on absolute, maximum-security lockdown.
Leo was pulled from his private preschool and escorted home by a heavily armed tactical team.
Later that evening, Everett sat in the grand library of the estate, reviewing the autopsy report provided by his underground coroner.
Marco stood by the heavy oak desk, his arms crossed over his chest, looking incredibly grim.
"The poison was a delayed-reaction synthetic compound, incredibly expensive and entirely untraceable," Marco reported.
"Marcus Thorne intentionally timed the dose so the man would die exactly when he reached Willa's clinic."
Everett leaned back in his leather chair, processing the terrifying psychological warfare Thorne was initiating.
"He wants us to know that he can reach into the safest, most sacred places we have built," Everett realized coldly.
"He wants to incite panic before he launches his actual offensive."
"What are your orders, Boss?" Marco asked, completely ready to mobilize the dormant, violent army of the Chicago syndicate.
Everett looked out the large bay windows, watching the heavy snow begin to fall over his heavily fortified gardens.
"Increase the guard detail around Willa and Leo by triple," Everett commanded ruthlessly.
"And send a team to New York tonight."
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"We are not going to wait for Thorne to bring the war to our doorstep; we are going to burn his supply lines to the ground."
The sleeping monster of Chicago was fully awake, and he was completely ready to destroy the East Coast.
