Chapter 6 - The Shadow at the Gates
While peace settled over the grand estate on Lake Shore Drive, eighty miles south in a nondescript industrial park near the Indiana border, the remnants of the syndicate that had sent the hitmen to the South Side diner were holding a very different kind of meeting.
In a windowless concrete warehouse smelling of machine oil and damp earth, Viktor Vance—a ruthless lieutenant who had inherited the scraps of the operation Dante Moretti was slowly dismantling—slapped a heavy tactical dossier onto a metal table.
"What do you mean, the hit failed?" Viktor snarled, glaring at two bruised enforcers standing before him.
"Moretti's guys were waiting, boss," one of them muttered, wincing as he touched a taped rib. "It was a trap. But it wasn't Moretti’s security that wrecked us first. It was some waitress. She took out Miller and Cruz with a diner stool and a piece of rebar before we even knew what hit us."
Viktor’s eyes narrowed into slits. "A waitress? A civilian took out two of my best men?"
"She wasn't normal, boss," the other enforcer whispered. "She didn't blink. She looked like she wanted to die."
Viktor paced the concrete floor, his boots echoing in the cavernous space. Dante Moretti had been untouchable for a decade, insulated by his wealth, his ruthlessness, and his ironclad security detail. But Moretti had a soft spot now—an aging mother and a five-year-old daughter whom he kept hidden behind high walls and gated drives. And according to the scout reports, that waitress was currently living inside the main estate.
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"Moretti thinks he’s won," Viktor muttered, a cruel smile twisting his thin lips. "He thinks he’s cleaned house. But he brought a stray dog into his own fortress."
He turned to a sniper packing a suppressed rifle in the corner. "Find out when that girl leaves the property. Or better yet... let's see how well Moretti protects his new pet when the gates are burning."
