Chapter 6 - War on the South Side
The temperature in the room dropped to absolute zero.
My chair slammed backward against the wall as I stood up so fast the mahogany desk shuddered. The espresso cup on the tray rattled violently. Tessa froze, her color instantly draining away, the blood rushing out of her face until she looked like a ghost.
“What did you say?” I demanded, my voice dangerously low, vibrating with a lethal fury that made even Sal take a half-step back.
“Sean O'Connor,” Sal stammered, reading off the screen of his phone. “They tracked the kids through St. Jude’s private academy enrollment records. They figured out the boys were connected to the new trust on 63rd Street, and they figured out someone in our organization is bankrolling it. They took Leo and Toby off the school bus twenty minutes ago. They left a burner phone at the scene with a message for you.”
Tessa let out a piercing, gut-wrenching scream that shattered the quiet atmosphere of the study. She collapsed to her knees on the Persian rug, clutching her head, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face.
“My babies!” she sobbed, her voice breaking into ragged, hysterical fragments. “Oh God, please! My boys! They have my boys!”
I looked down at her, feeling a dark, primal rage ignite deep inside my chest—a fury I hadn't felt since the day I swore to protect my own family decades ago. Someone had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. They had touched what was mine.
I grabbed my shoulder holster from the back of the chair, strapping on my custom Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum with practiced, ruthless precision. I slid extra magazines into my jacket pocket, my eyes locked on the terrified, weeping woman kneeling on my floor.
“Tessa,” I said, my voice cutting through her cries with absolute, terrifying authority. Look at me.”
She raised her head, her eyes wide, bloodshot, and drowning in despair.
“Listen to me very carefully,” I told her, kneeling down to look her dead in the eye. “When I built this empire, I made a lot of monsters in this city fear my name. Tonight, I’m going to remind every single one of them why they should have stayed hiding in the dark. Your boys are coming home. I swear it on my life.”
May you like
I stood up, turning to Sal, who had already unzipped a tactical duffel bag filled with submachine guns and tactical gear.
“Assemble the entire strike team,” I commanded coldly, racking the slide of my firearm. “Tell every capos, every soldier, every heavy hitter we have on the payroll to grab their iron. We’re tearing the North Side down to the bedrock. Nobody touches family in my city and lives to tell the tale.”
