Chapter 7 - The Wrath of the Ghost and the Ironclad Vow
The silence in the library was so absolute you could hear the individual embers popping in the stone fireplace.
Andrew stood completely still.
For three agonizing seconds, he didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't even move a muscle.
Then, the air around him seemed to shatter.
The sheer, suffocating fury radiating from his massive frame made Marcus take an involuntary step backward.
It wasn't the anger of a businessman losing a warehouse or a shipment of medical goods.
It was the cold, murderous rage of a father whose child had just been threatened by monsters in the dark.
“Marcus,” Andrew said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of an executioner’s axe.
“Get the strike teams ready. Every single captain, every enforcer, every shadow we have on the payroll. I want every bridge out of Brooklyn locked down within ten minutes. Nobody leaves this borough. Not a single rat, not a single whisper.”
“Boss, the police—,” Marcus started.
“The police answer to me,” Andrew cut him off, turning around with eyes burning like frozen blue fire.
“If the Mayor has a problem with my city being locked down, he can call my personal cell phone while I’m feeding his favorite councilman to the river sharks. Move!”
Marcus nodded sharply, turned on his heel, and sprinted out of the room to execute the orders.
Andrew turned back toward me.
His expression softened instantly, though the residual tremor in his massive hands betrayed how close he was to losing control.
He dropped to one knee so we were eye-to-eye.
“Ivy,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“Look at me.”
I blinked, my lower lip trembling slightly as the memory of the red spray paint warning echoed in my mind.
“Are they going to hurt Mommy?” I whispered, a tear finally escaping and rolling down my cheek.
Andrew reached out, his thumb gently wiping away the tear with infinite tenderness.
“Listen to me very carefully, little partner,” Andrew vowed, placing his hand over his heart.
“Before anyone touches a single hair on your mother’s head, or yours, they will have to walk over every single body in the entire Brooklyn underworld—starting with mine.”
He pulled me into a fierce, protective embrace, lifting me off the rug and holding me tight against his broad chest.
“You gave me five dollars to save your family,” Andrew murmured against my hair.
“I am a man of my word, Ivy. The contract isn't null and void. It has just been upgraded to life.”
Suddenly, the heavy mahogany doors opened again, much more softly this time.
Mommy stood in the doorway, wearing a fresh woolen sweater over her nurse’s clothes, her dark hair tied back neatly.
She had heard the commotion.
Her eyes darted from the fallen chair to Andrew’s hardened expression, and finally to me wrapped safely in his arms.
“Andrew… what happened?” Mommy asked, her voice tight with rising panic.
Andrew stood up, still holding me securely with one arm while stepping toward her.
“Sterling’s remnants tried to send a message,” Andrew said plainly, hiding nothing from her.
“They hit warehouse four. They left a threat.”
Mommy paled, her hands instinctively flying to her mouth.
“A threat against… against Ivy?”
“Yes,” Andrew replied, his voice unwavering.
“Which means I am moving you both right now. You’re not staying in this estate tonight. You’re coming with me to the citadel.”
Mommy stared at him in disbelief.
“The citadel? Andrew, your main compound? That’s where you keep your prisoners, your weapon caches, your—your entire operation!”
“It’s also the safest place on the Eastern Seaboard,” Andrew interrupted, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of her.
“Inside my walls, with my best men guarding every door, not even an army can touch you. I won’t risk your life on the hope that some cowardly sniper won't try to take a shot through these open estate windows.”
Mommy looked deep into Andrew’s piercing ice-blue eyes.
She saw no hesitation there.
Only an absolute, unshakable vow to keep us safe.
Slowly, she nodded.
“Okay,” Mommy whispered softly. “We go with you.”
Andrew exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding for hours.
May you like
“Good,” he said, turning toward the private elevator at the back of the library.
“Let’s go home.”
Related Stories
