Chapter 7 - The Gathering Storm
I stood up slowly, towering over the small space. The grief that had frozen my heart for twelve years instantly melted, replaced by a white-hot, calculated fury that burned hotter than any fire.
"Pack your things," I said, my tone absolute.
Beatrice froze, clutching Elena tighter. "What? No, please—"
"I said, pack your things," I repeated, looking down at her with a gaze that brooked no argument. "You are not living another minute in this metal box. And neither is my niece."
Before Beatrice could process my words, the distant roar of high-performance engines shattered the quiet of the rail yard. Headlights swept across the corrugated walls of the container, casting long, dancing shadows.
Too fast.
I spun around, stepping out into the freezing night air. Three black SUVs slid to a aggressive halt, blocking the only exit from the rail spur.
Doors flew open simultaneously. Armed men poured out, their assault rifles raised, clad in tactical gear bearing the insignia of my own private security force.
At the front of the formation stood Lorenzo Vale, a cold, mocking smirk plastered across his face. In his right hand, he held a sleek, silenced pistol.
"Well, well, well," Lorenzo called out, his voice cutting through the wind as he stepped closer. "I wondered where our favorite little thief was sneaking off to every night. Imagine my surprise when I check the GPS tracker on your car, boss, and find out you followed her all the way out here."
I stepped fully into the headlights, my hands resting casually at my sides, though every muscle in my body was coiled like a spring.
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"You've been busy, Lorenzo," I said, my voice eerily calm.
Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "Cleaning up loose ends, boss. Just like I did twelve years ago. It’s a shame, really. You had a good run. But a sentimental boss is a weak boss. And tonight, the Vance syndicate gets a new CEO."
