Chapter 2 - The Shadow of the Castile Name
Glass showered the threadbare rug like hail.
The deafening report of high-caliber gunfire rattled the ancient plaster walls of Sadie’s apartment building. Outside, the engine of the dark sedan roared, tires shrieking against wet asphalt as the hitmen prepared for a second pass.
Before Sadie could process the sudden annihilation of her peaceful evening, a heavy weight tackled her to the floor. Dominic Castile’s body covered hers completely, his broad frame shielding her from the shards of glass flying overhead. The clean scent of cedar and expensive rain-soaked wool hit her senses, sharp and grounding amidst the acrid smell of gunpowder.
"Stay down!" Dominic’s command was low, devoid of panic, executed with the terrifying efficiency of a man born into chaos.
His right hand reached into his tailored jacket, pulling a sleek dark firearm from a shoulder holster. He didn’t hesitate. Rolling to his side with fluid precision, he leaned toward the shattered window frame and fired three quick, calculated rounds into the darkness outside. The sound echoed in the small apartment like thunder.
Down the hallway, Carmine and the other guard drew their weapons, taking defensive positions at the doorway.
"They’re pulling back, Boss!" Carmine shouted above the ringing in Sadie’s ears. "A dark Lexus with blacked-out plates. Heading south toward the avenue."
"Call the sweepers," Dominic replied, his voice chillingly calm as he stood up and offered a hand down to Sadie. "Clear the street before the city police dispatch gets three calls."
Sadie lay on the floor, her breathing ragged, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her raw, blistered palms throbbed with white-hot pain where she had pressed them against the splintered floorboards. She stared up at the man towering over her.
Dominic Castile was legendary in certain parts of Chicago—a ghost story spoken in hushed tones by dockworkers, prosecutors, and union bosses alike. The Castile family controlled the logistics networks, the shipping lines, and the quiet underground commerce that kept the city running. To the public, Dominic was a sharp-suited real estate magnate and shipping mogul. To those in the know, he was the ruthless heir to a criminal empire that didn’t grant second chances.
And now, his enemies were shooting through her window.
"Are you hit?" Dominic asked, his dark eyes sweeping over her with calculated intensity.
"No," Sadie gasped, pushing herself up while trying to avoid putting weight on her injured hands. Her voice shook, but her gaze met his without flinching. "Who were those people? Why are they shooting at my apartment?"
"Because you did something extraordinary," Dominic said, reaching down and grasping her elbow—firmly, but with surprising care regarding her injuries. He pulled her effortlessly to her feet. "And in my world, extraordinary deeds attract lethal consequences."
"I don't belong in your world!" Sadie snapped, pulling her arm back. "I work at a diner! I pay—or try to pay—rent on a third-floor studio! I don't know you, and I don't know who just tried to kill me!"
"They don't care about your rent or your diner, Miss Brooks," Dominic said smoothly, stepping over a pile of broken glass to retrieve her coat from the back of a wooden chair. "To the Moretti family, you are the person who robbed them of a victory. They set fire to my mother’s home to send a message. You erased that message. Now, you’re an loose end. A target."
Sadie looked at her destroyed apartment. The window was gone, rain was blowing into the room, and bullet holes tore through the cheap wallpaper she had spent hours peeling back when she moved in. Her entire life—meager as it was—had been shattered in less than thirty seconds.
"You need to leave. Now," Dominic instructed, holding out her worn coat.
"Leave?" Sadie echoed, her temper flaring through her shock. "This is my home! I have nowhere else to go!"
"If you stay here, you will be dead before sunrise," Dominic said, his tone dropping an octave, heavy with absolute certainty. "The Morettis do not miss twice. Carmine, get her bag."
"Touch my stuff and I'll break your hand," Sadie warned Carmine as the large man stepped toward her meager dresser. She turned back to Dominic, her brown eyes blazing. "I am not going anywhere with a mobster."
Dominic’s lips twitched slightly, a ghost of an amused expression touching his hard features before vanishing just as quickly. "I am offering you protection, Miss Brooks. Not a choice."
Before she could protest further, Dominic signaled to his men. Carmine efficiently swept a hand through her closet, grabbing a small duffel bag and shoving a few essentials inside with surprising neatness.
"Look at me, Sadie," Dominic said, stepping directly into her personal space. He was tall—easily six-foot-two—and the aura of authority radiating from him was suffocating. "You saved my mother’s life when anyone else would have walked away. That puts me in your debt. And Dominic Castile does not leave his debts unprotected. You come with me, or you stay here and die. Choose."
Sadie looked from Dominic’s cold, unyielding gaze to the bullet holes in her wall. The cold Chicago rain was misting across her face through the shattered window. Reality settled in with icy precision. She had no money, no defensive capability, and a target painted on her back because she had dared to be human at two in the morning.
"Fine," she spat, her teeth clattering from a mix of adrenaline and cold. "But if you think this means I'm working for you, you're severely mistaken."
Dominic merely gestured toward the door. "After you."
They hurried down the dark stairwell and out the rear exit of the building, avoiding the front street where neighbors were undoubtedly peaking through blinds. A heavy black SUV with reinforced armor plating sat idling in the alley. Carmine opened the rear door, and Dominic ushered Sadie inside before climbing in beside her.
As the heavy door slammed shut, cutting off the noise of the city, the vehicle accelerated smoothly into the Chicago night. Sadie pressed her back against the leather seat, staring out the tinted windows as her neighborhood faded into the distance.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked quietly.
"To my estate in Lake Forest," Dominic answered, adjusting his cuffs. "It is fortified. The Morettis cannot touch you there."
"And then what?" Sadie asked, turning to face him. "I just live in your fortress forever? I have a job, Dominic. I have bills."
"Your job is no longer safe," Dominic replied bluntly. "And as for your bills... consider them settled."
"I don't want your money!"
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"It isn't a gift, Miss Brooks. It's security," Dominic said, his voice hardening slightly. "You made yourself part of this war the second you broke that window to save my mother. Until I eliminate the threat, your life belongs to the perimeter I establish around you."
Sadie clutched her burnt, bandaged hands in her lap, feeling the walls of a completely different kind of cage closing in around her.
