Chapter 9 - The Ledger and the Bullet
Victor Vance’s hand froze two inches above his hidden shoulder holster.
The color drained entirely from his face, leaving his skin the color of wet chalk as the terrifying reality of who stood before him finally settled into his bones.
“You,” Victor breathed, staring directly past Lorenzo at Chloe.
“The reconnaissance unit from the Al-Anbar extraction.”
“The army report said you burned inside that armored transport.”
Chloe stepped into the study, her boots clicking softly against the Persian rug.
She did not raise her weapon.
She simply reached into her tactical vest, pulled out a portable hard drive encased in heavy black rubber, and tossed it onto the walnut desk directly in front of Victor.
It landed with a heavy, ominous thud right on top of the family trust papers.
“The army report was written by an Aegis Vanguard procurement officer who needed the asset write-off approved before lunch,” Chloe said, her voice completely devoid of emotion.
“Just like the medical examiner’s report on Carmine Capello’s death.”
Victor’s eyes darted from the hard drive to Lorenzo, then back to Chloe.
He knew he was cornered.
The perimeter guards were either dead or neutralized, the estate comms were dead, and no one was coming to save him.
A dangerous, desperate calculation flickered behind his eyes.
“You think you won, Enzo?” Victor laughed, a harsh, jagged sound that lacked all humor.
“You think walking in here with a ghost from the desert changes the fact that the Commission already owns your shipping docks?”
“Aegis Vanguard doesn’t negotiate with street syndicates.”
“They liquidate them.”
“If I don't check in with their Chicago director by sunrise, three strike teams will roll over every property bearing the Capello name from here to St. Louis.”
Lorenzo did not blink.
“Let them roll,” Lorenzo said coldly.
“For thirty years, our family let parasites like you and your corporate handlers bleed our city dry under the illusion of partnership.”
“Tonight, that partnership ends.”
Victor’s right hand whipped out from beneath his jacket with blinding speed, his fingers closing around a customized silver-plated Walther PPK.
He wasn’t aiming at Lorenzo.
He was aiming straight at Sofia, who was cowering behind the bookshelf.
“If I’m going down, the bloodline goes with me!” Victor screamed, raising the barrel.
He never cleared the desk.
A single, deafening crack echoed through the study before Victor’s finger could squeeze the trigger.
The hollow-point round fired from Chloe’s Glock took Victor squarely through the center of his right wrist, shattering the bone and sending the Walther spinning across the polished floorboards.
Victor shrieked in agony, clutching his mangled hand to his chest as blood spurted across the antique ledger.
Lorenzo stepped forward, closed the distance between them in two massive strides, and brought the heavy butt of his pistol down across the side of Victor’s skull with brutal, devastating force.
May you like
Victor collapsed backward into the leather chair, unconscious before his head hit the high-backed cushion.
Silence rushed back into the room, broken only by Sofia’s soft sobbing and the steady patter of rain against the French doors.
