“I’m not walking in,” I said, turning to the security monitors. The cameras showed that Silas’s men had finally left the mansion, satisfied that the house was clear. The flashing blue and red lights of police cruisers were beginning to illuminate the shattered front doors.
The corrupt police had arrived to clean up the mess.
“Rachel,” I said, looking at the housekeeper who had caught me when I fell, who had cooked with me, who had stood by me when the world was falling apart. “I need one more favor.”
Rachel stood up, her expression resolute. “Whatever you need, Mrs. Hayes.”
“I need you to get Nicole out of here,” I instructed. “Take her through the service tunnels to the hospital. Use the back roads. Do not talk to the police.”
“And what are you going to do?” Nicole demanded, trying to stand up, but failing.
I looked down at my yellow maternity dress. It was stained with drywall dust and Madison’s blood. I looked like a victim.
“I’m going to make a trade,” I said quietly.
I unlocked the heavy steel door of the panic room and stepped out into the ruined kitchen.
The house was eerily silent, smelling of gunpowder and copper. I stepped over Madison’s body, not allowing myself to feel pity. She had chosen her path.
I walked out the back door into the rainy night, heading for the garage. Alex kept a modest, unassuming sedan parked in the back for emergencies.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, ignoring the sharp aches in my lower back, and started the engine.
I didn’t drive to the police. I didn’t drive to safety.
I drove straight toward the South Side.
Chapter 6 – The Devil’s Abattoir
The old meatpacking district was a desolate maze of rusted brick and cracked asphalt.
I parked the sedan two blocks away from the massive, looming structure Nicole had described. It looked abandoned, with shattered windows and graffiti-covered doors, but the three black SUVs idling near the loading dock told a different story.
I stepped out of the car. The freezing Chicago rain soaked through my thin yellow dress instantly, sending shivers down my spine. I took a deep breath, resting my hand on my stomach.
I’m coming, Alex.
I walked openly down the center of the street, making no attempt to hide.
As I approached the loading dock, two massive men in dark raincoats stepped out from the shadows, raising assault rifles.
“Stop right there,” the larger man barked, shining a blinding flashlight into my face.
I didn’t flinch. I held up my hands, revealing the small silver flash drive pinched between my fingers.
“My name is Rebecca Hayes,” I said, my voice echoing off the wet brick walls. “I’m here to see Silas Thorne. Tell him I have Arthur’s ledgers.”
The guards exchanged a wary look. The name Arthur Hayes clearly carried weight, even among enemies.
One of them spoke rapidly into a radio on his lapel. A moment later, he nodded to his partner.
“Hands on your head,” the guard ordered.
He patted me down roughly, finding nothing but the flash drive, which he confiscated. They grabbed me by the arms, dragging me up the metal stairs of the loading dock and into the building.
The interior was a nightmare. The air was thick with the metallic smell of old blood and ammonia. Rusty meat hooks hung from tracks on the ceiling, swaying gently in the drafts.
They marched me through a maze of plastic curtains into a large, brightly lit clearing in the center of the warehouse.
My heart stopped.
Alex was chained to a heavy steel chair in the center of the room. His face was a bruised, bloody mess. His shirt was torn, and he was breathing heavily, his head slumped forward.
“Alex!” I cried out, struggling against the guards’ grip.
His head snapped up. His dark eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated terror when he saw me.
“Rebecca? No!” Alex roared, thrashing violently against the heavy steel chains binding his wrists. “Why are you here?! I told you to run!”
“I told you,” I yelled back, tears blurring my vision. “I don’t leave my family behind.”
“How touching,” a slow, mocking voice echoed from the shadows.
Silas Thorne stepped into the light. He was an older man, heavily scarred, wearing a bespoke suit that looked entirely out of place in the slaughterhouse. He radiated a cold, calculating cruelty.
He walked over to Alex, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back.
“Your wife is incredibly stubborn, Alex,” Silas noted, examining my terrified face. “Madison warned me she was a nuisance. It’s a shame the girl didn’t finish the job.”
“If you touch her, Silas,” Alex growled, his voice vibrating with a primal, lethal promise, “I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”
Silas chuckled, dropping Alex’s head. He turned his attention to me, holding up the silver flash drive his guard had handed him.
“You claim this contains Arthur’s master ledgers,” Silas said, stepping closer to me. “The offshore accounts, the blackmail files. Everything he stole from me fifteen years ago.”
“It does,” I stated firmly, lifting my chin. “I spoke to Arthur tonight. I convinced him to send them to me to secure Alex’s release.”
“Arthur gave up his empire to save his son?” Silas laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Arthur Hayes doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He faked his death and left this boy to take the bullets for him. You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying about the drive,” I countered, keeping my voice steady. “Plug it in. Verify the files.”
Silas stared at me, his eyes narrowing. He gestured to a tech specialist sitting at a folding table nearby with a rugged laptop.
The guard handed the flash drive to the tech, who plugged it in.
The tech typed for a moment, then looked up at Silas, nodding slowly.
“It’s heavily encrypted, boss,” the tech reported. “But the file headers match the Syndicate’s old archival structure. It looks legitimate. I need the decryption key to open the files.”
Silas turned back to me, a predatory smile spreading across his scarred face. “The key, Rebecca.”
“Let Alex go,” I demanded. “Unchain him, give us a car, and I will give you the key.”
