Chapter 6 - THE RUSTED WAREHOUSE
The rain battered the rusted corrugated metal roof of Pier 44 like a million tiny hammers.
The massive, cavernous warehouse sat on the edge of the dark, churning Chicago River. It smelled of old oil, decaying fish, and wet wood.
Lorenzo Moretti kicked the heavy loading doors open, stepping into the darkness. He didn't bother trying to sneak in. He knew they were waiting for him.
A single, blinding halogen work light clicked on in the center of the warehouse.
Sitting in a wooden chair, bound tightly with thick nylon ropes, was Rachel. She looked incredibly frail, her skin pale and drawn from her illness. But her eyes were wide and fierce as she looked at Lorenzo.
Standing behind her, holding a suppressed pistol to the back of her head, was Victor. The accountant looked completely out of place in a tailored grey suit amid the grime of the pier.
And standing to his right, wearing a sleek black trench coat and holding a small black remote control, was Celeste.
"Right on time, Lorenzo," Celeste smiled, her red lips curving into a cruel sneer. "You always were incredibly predictable when it came to loyalty."
"Let her go, Victor," Lorenzo said, his voice echoing in the massive space. He slowly unbuttoned his coat, keeping his hands away from his weapon to show he was unarmed. "You want my empire? You want the port authority rights? They're yours. The transfer papers are in my car. But the widow leaves first."
Victor chuckled, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against Rachel's head. Rachel winced, but she refused to cry out.
"You think this is just about money, Lorenzo?" Victor laughed. "This is about erasing the Moretti legacy. Thomas was the only thing holding your security together. When I realized he had proof I was embezzling, I planted that car bomb. I just got lucky that he decided to play the hero and take the blast for you."
Lorenzo's entire body went rigid. The grief of five years instantly transmuted into pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You killed him," Lorenzo whispered, his hands curling into massive fists.
"And now I'm going to finish the job," Victor smiled.
"No, Victor," Celeste interrupted, stepping forward, waving the black detonator. "I finish the job. Your father ruined my family, Lorenzo. He drove my father to bankruptcy and suicide. I didn't become your fiancée because I loved you. I did it to get close enough to watch your empire burn."
She held up the detonator. "This building is wired with enough C-4 to vaporize this entire pier. As soon as I press this button, you, the widow, and the legacy of the Morettis will disappear into the river."
Lorenzo calculated the distance. Thirty feet. He could draw his weapon, but he couldn't take down both Victor and Celeste before she pressed the button or Victor pulled the trigger.
He was out of options.
High above them, hidden in the pitch-black shadows of the rusted catwalks, a tiny figure crept silently across the steel grating.
Mia had managed to squeeze through the hospital air vents, slip into the back of Silas's SUV while he was coordinating with Lorenzo's men, and ride in the trunk all the way to the pier.
She crawled on her stomach, her heart hammering against the cold steel of the catwalk. She was positioned directly over Victor and her mother.
Mia looked down at the horrific scene. She saw the gun pointed at her mother's head. She saw the detonator in Celeste's hand.
Mia reached into her school backpack, which she had stubbornly refused to leave behind. She didn't have a gun. She didn't have a weapon.
But she had something heavy.
She pulled out her thick, massive, hardback math textbook. It weighed almost five pounds.
She quietly unzipped the side pocket of her bag and pulled out the antique brass key they had found in the hospital.
Mia took a deep breath. She wasn't just a waitress anymore.
May you like
She lined up her target, directly above Victor's impeccably groomed head.
And she dropped the heavy textbook.
