Chapter 12 - THE MIDNIGHT WAREHOUSE SHOWDOWN
Midnight at the old dockside warehouse on the Chicago riverfront.
Fog rolled off the black water, wrapping around rusted shipping containers.
My heels clicked rhythmically against the concrete floor as I walked toward the center bay.
Viktor Sterling’s men waited near the perimeter, holding automatic rifles.
A black sedan pulled up with screeching tires.
Adrian stepped out alone.
No bodyguards.
No enforcers.
Just a man facing the ruins of his own making.
He walked slowly toward me, stopping ten feet away.
“You brought me back to where it started,” Adrian said quietly, his voice hollow.
“Fitting, isn't it?” I replied, crossing my arms against the damp wind.
“You stood me up for a dead marriage, Adrian.”
“I was a fool,” he said, taking a step forward.
“I built an empire of glass and thought it would never break.”
“And when the stones started falling, you threw me under the rubble.”
“Never,” he whispered, his gray eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I never stopped needing you, Claire.”
“Needing isn't loving, Adrian,” I said, my voice cutting through the fog like a razor.
“You needed a wife to anchor your reputation.”
“You needed someone to wait at home while you built your monuments.”
“I’m done waiting.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.
Federal black-and-whites swarmed the pier from every direction, their red and blue emergency lights painting the shipping containers in flashing colors.
“Federal Agents! Nobody move!” a megaphone boomed.
Adrian didn't look at the police.
He kept his eyes locked on mine.
“Is this the end, Claire?” he asked softly.
May you like
“No, Adrian,” I turned away, walking toward Viktor’s waiting car.
“This is just the beginning.”
