THE STORM ALWAYS PASSES

The abandoned shipyard on the edge of Lake Michigan was a graveyard of rusting cranes and empty shipping containers. The storm had finally broken, leaving behind a thick, freezing fog that clung to the water.

When we arrived, stealing an old station wagon from a motel parking lot to get there, we found we weren't alone.

Three black town cars were parked in a circle, their headlights cutting through the fog. Around them stood a dozen men—sharp suits, long coats, heavily armed, and visibly tense. When Julian stepped out of the station wagon, a ripple of shock went through them, followed immediately by absolute deference.

"Boss," a burly man with a scarred jaw stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. "We thought... the rumors said you were dead."

"Russo's rumors," Julian said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the crashing waves of the lake. "He moved against me. He tried to take my son."

A low, angry murmur went through the crowd. These were the loyalists. The old guard.

"What are your orders, Julian?" the scarred man asked.

"Russo will be at the downtown penthouse, celebrating his victory. He thinks I am running, hiding in the dirt," Julian said, pulling a fresh, fully loaded pistol from a duffel bag one of the men handed him. "We are going to walk through the front door and remind him who built this city."

I sat in the back of the station wagon, holding a thermal blanket around Theo. He was watching his father with a mix of awe and terror.

"He's going to war," Theo whispered to me.

"He's going to make it safe for you to go home," I corrected gently.

Julian walked over to us. He crouched down, bringing himself eye-level with his son. "Theo. I am going to end this tonight. But I need you to stay here with Delia. Enzo and his men will guard you."

Theo reached into his pocket. Slowly, he pulled out the cracked watch. He held it out to his father.

"Bring it back to me," Theo said, his voice remarkably steady.

Julian’s breath hitched. He looked at the watch, then at his son. Carefully, reverently, he took it and slipped it into his breast pocket, right over his heart. "I promise."

He stood up, looking at me. "If I do not return by sunrise... Enzo will take you and Theo out of the country. You will have enough money to live ten lifetimes."