Chapter 4 - THE SHATTERED GLASS
Silence slammed into the room.
Fay felt the blood drain from her head. The floor tilted. Josie’s surgery. The years of saving, the endless nights of overtime, the promises whispered against her daughter’s cheek—all of it hanging by a thread that this cruel woman was gleefully cutting.
“You wouldn’t,” Fay breathed, horror choking her words. “She’s five years old.”
“I just did,” Celeste smiled, her teeth gleaming like a shark’s. She looked at Rafferty. “You need my family’s shipping routes to legitimize your business, Rafferty. You cross us, and you lose the docks. You cross me, and the brat stays broken forever.”
Rafferty didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to.
“Silvano,” Rafferty said softly.
“Yes, boss.”
“If she speaks another word in my house, break her jaw.”
Celeste’s smug smile vanished. She looked at Silvano, who stepped forward, his face completely devoid of mercy. She took a step back, her expensive heels clicking frantically on the wood, and fled the room.
Fay couldn’t breathe. She turned and ran.
She didn't care about the money. She didn't care about Rafferty. She just needed to get to Josie. She burst through the kitchen doors, running out into the humid New Orleans night, ignoring Mrs. Odette calling her name.
She ran down the gravel drive, her chest heaving, her worn shoes slipping.
Tires screeched on the pavement behind her. A sleek black SUV pulled up, the passenger door flying open. Rafferty was behind the wheel.
“Get in,” he commanded.
“I need to get to my daughter!” Fay cried, tears finally spilling over.
“I know. And I can get you there faster than you can run. Get in.”
Fay hesitated only a second before throwing herself into the leather seat.
Rafferty drove like a man possessed. He didn't ask for directions; he had already memorized her address from the background check his men ran on all staff.
“If they cancel the surgery—” Fay sobbed, her hands covering her face.
“They won't,” Rafferty said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “I won't let them.”
They reached her dilapidated apartment building in the Lower Ninth Ward. The streetlights were broken. The shadows felt heavy, menacing.
Fay leaped from the car before it even fully parked, sprinting up the three flights of stairs. Rafferty was right behind her, his hand reaching inside his jacket.
When Fay reached the third floor, her heart stopped.
Her front door was cracked open. The lock was splintered.
“Mrs. Gable!” Fay screamed, pushing the door open.
The elderly babysitter was slumped on the worn sofa, unconscious.
Fay sprinted toward the tiny bedroom. “Josie!”
Standing over Josie’s small bed was a heavy-set man in a cheap suit. He held a switchblade in one hand, looking down at the sleeping five-year-old.
“Looks like the boss’s daughter was right,” the man sneered, turning toward Fay. “You should have stayed on your knees, sweetheart.”
He lunged toward Fay.
He never made it.
Rafferty hit the man with the force of a freight train. They crashed backward through the thin wooden partition wall and shattered the glass coffee table in the living room.
The noise was deafening.
Josie woke up. She couldn't hear the crash, but she felt the violent vibration of the floorboards. She sat up, clutching her blanket, her wide, terrified eyes finding her mother.
Fay threw herself over the bed, wrapping Josie in her arms. “I’ve got you, baby, Mommy’s here.”
In the living room, the thug slashed upward with the knife, catching Rafferty along the jawline—right over his old scar. Blood welled up instantly. Rafferty didn't even flinch. He grabbed the man’s wrist, twisted until a sickening snap echoed through the room, and drove his fist into the man’s face. The thug went limp.
Rafferty stood up slowly, breathing heavily. Blood dripped from his jaw onto his ruined white shirt.
He turned and looked into the bedroom.
Josie was staring at him. She pulled away from Fay’s chest and pointed a small, trembling finger at the tall, bleeding man in the shadows.
May you like
She didn't scream. She just watched him.
Rafferty stepped into the doorway, his massive frame filling it entirely. He looked at the fragile child, and the ruthless Mafia boss disappeared. He slowly sank to his knees, ignoring the glass digging into his trousers, bringing himself down to her eye level.
