Chapter 4 - The Shadows in Pilsen
Three weeks passed. The new protocol at the Rossi estate ran like clockwork.
Every evening at 6:45 PM, a heavy thermal bag containing three hot, restaurant-quality dinners was placed on a shelf beside the staff exit. Every evening at 7:00 PM, Tessa walked out the door carrying that bag, her head held slightly higher, though she never spoke a word about it to anyone.
Her physical appearance began to change subtly. The dark hollows beneath her eyes softened. The pale, ghost-like tinge on her skin gave way to a healthy warmth, though she remained deeply quiet and hyper-focused on her duties around the estate.
I kept my distance. I made sure my presence didn't intimidate her. When our paths crossed in the halls, I gave her a polite nod, and she gave a quiet curtsy before continuing her work.
However, late one Thursday night in mid-December, my security chief, Marcus—a former SWAT captain who managed my physical protection detail—knocked on my study door.
“Enter,” I called out.
Marcus stepped inside, holding a thin leather folder. His expression was grim.
“Mr. Rossi, we have a minor security situation regarding one of your domestic staff members,” Marcus said, placing the folder on my desk.
I set down my pen. “Which staff member?”
“Tessa Cole.”
A sudden sharpness flared in my chest. “What happened? Is she alright?”
“Physically, yes,” Marcus answered. “As part of our standard quarterly background audits on all staff with access to your private floor, my team conducts routine neighborhood checks. We monitored her residence in Pilsen last night.”
He opened the folder, revealing several surveillance photographs taken in a dark, narrow alleyway behind an dilapidated apartment building.
“Her late father left behind significant debts before he abandoned the family eight years ago,” Marcus explained, pointing to a photograph of a tall, muscular man in a heavy leather jacket standing near the doorway of Tessa's basement apartment. “The creditor is a local illegal loan shark named Jimmy 'The Hammer' Vance. He operates out of a pool hall in South Chicago.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at the photograph. “How much does her father owe?”
“The original debt was fifteen thousand dollars,” Marcus said. “With Vance’s extortionate interest rates over six years, he’s claiming she owes forty-five thousand. He’s been harassing her at her apartment late at night when she returns from work.”
A cold, dangerous rage began to simmer deep in my chest—a feeling I hadn't experienced since taking over my father's business empire.
“She’s paying him?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm.
“She’s been handing over half her weekly paycheck to keep him from threatening her brothers,” Marcus revealed. “That’s why she was struggling so badly with groceries, sir. It wasn't just her mother's medical bills. Vance has been bleeding her dry for six months.”
I closed the leather folder slowly, the snap of the binder echoing through the quiet office.
I looked out the window at the snow beginning to fall softly over Chicago. Tessa was scrubbing my floors, keeping my estate pristine, and taking home hot meals to her brothers, while a street parasite stood on her doorstep every night threatening children over a deadbeat father's debt.
“Does she know we ran this audit?” I asked.
“No, sir. It was clean corporate intelligence.”
“Good,” I said, standing up and buttoning my suit jacket. “Keep it that way.”
Marcus looked at me carefully. “How do you want to handle this, Mr. Rossi? Should I send two of our legal team representatives to serve Vance with a cease-and-desist?”
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I looked at Marcus and let out a cold, sharp laugh.
“Legal letters don't work on street parasites, Marcus,” I said, walking toward the private elevator. “Get the car ready. You and I are going to take a drive to South Chicago.”
