Chapter 7 - THE CHEF'S REVENGE
The metallic clack of the shotgun echoing in the warehouse froze the blood in Maeve’s veins.
Chef Delphine stepped fully into the light. Her white chef’s coat was unbuttoned over a black tactical vest. Her eyes were burning with a hatred that had clearly been festering for years.
"Delphine?" Cian asked, his hand hovering over the unsigned document. "You?"
"My husband owned the Southside Bakeries, Cian," Delphine spat, keeping the shotgun leveled at Maeve. "Until your father decided he wanted the real estate. Your father burned our bakeries to the ground. My husband was inside one of them."
Cian blinked, the sins of his father rising from the grave to choke him. "I didn't know."
"You didn't care!" Delphine screamed. "You sit at your fancy tables, eating my food, acting like you're better than the thugs you command because you speak quietly. You're all parasites! Declan promised me I’d get to watch your whole family die tonight."
Declan laughed. "Hurry up and sign the paper, Cian. The Chef gets impatient."
Maeve looked at Delphine. She remembered the long shifts in the Fiorenza kitchen. The times Delphine had yelled at her for dropping a plate. The times Delphine had casually slid an extra piece of bread onto Maeve’s station because she knew Maeve was hungry.
"Delphine," Maeve said softly. "You know me. You know how hard I work. You know I just want my son."
Delphine’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second. A crack in the armor.
Maeve didn't wait.
Using every instinct she had honed carrying boiling soup through crowded dining rooms, Maeve dropped her shoulder and lunged, kicking a heavy steel dolly directly into Delphine’s shins.
The shotgun went off with a deafening roar.
Buckshot tore through the ceiling, raining sparks down on them.
In the same millisecond, Cian grabbed the gold pen from the crate. He didn't sign the paper. Instead, he lunged across the wooden box and drove the sharp nib of the pen straight into the back of Declan’s hand, pinning his fingers to the wood.
Declan screamed, dropping the detonator.
Cian drove his knee into Declan’s jaw, a sickening crunch echoing in the cavern. Declan collapsed to the floor, out cold.
Maeve was wrestling with Delphine. The chef was stronger, fueled by rage, but Maeve was fueled by a mother’s terror. She grabbed a fistful of Delphine’s hair and slammed the woman’s head into a metal pillar. Delphine slumped over, unconscious.
Silence fell over the warehouse, save for the sound of Sienna whimpering from her chains.
Cian scooped up the detonator. He exhaled a shaky breath, looking at Maeve. Her apron was torn, her knuckles bleeding. She looked like a warrior.
"You okay?" Cian asked.
Maeve nodded, chest heaving. "Where is Leo?"
Cian walked over to the unconscious Declan. He searched his pockets and pulled out a small electronic fob. It had a digital screen reading: Container 404.
"Let's go get our boy," Cian said.
They sprinted out of the side door, into the maze of rusted shipping containers on the dock. The rain battered them. They wove through the narrow metal corridors, searching the faded white numbers painted on the sides.
401... 402... 403...
"Here!" Maeve screamed.
Container 404. It was painted a dull, rusty red. Strapped to the heavy iron lock was a brick of gray C4 explosive, wired to a red receiver.
Cian carefully pressed a button on the detonator. The red light on the C4 turned green. The bomb was disarmed.
He threw the heavy iron latch and ripped the doors open.
Inside the dark, freezing container, a little boy was huddled in the corner, clutching a dirty blue toy car.
"Mommy?"
"Leo!"
Maeve fell to her knees, dragging her son into her arms. She buried her face in his neck, sobbing uncontrollably.
Cian stood in the doorway, the rain soaking his suit. He looked at the boy’s gray eyes. Tommy’s eyes.
"We need to leave," Cian said softly.
But before they could take a step, a massive spotlight on a patrol boat sitting in the harbor clicked on, bathing them in blinding white light.
A megaphone crackled.
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"Step away from the container, Callaway. The police are on their way, and you're surrounded."
It was Julian Russo.
