Chapter 11 - Whispers of Treason
The aftermath of that bloody night at Calumet Harbor sent shockwaves through every echelon of Chicago society.
With Mario Moretti dead and his entire high command eradicated in a single night, the southern syndicate crumbled overnight. The corrupt politicians, judges, and rival families scrambled in sheer panic to pledge total loyalty to Hayes Global. Vincent Hayes was no longer just a mafia boss; he was the undisputed king of the Midwest underworld.
For two weeks, the Hayes estate was placed under total lockdown while Vincent underwent two additional surgeries to repair the catastrophic damage to his internal organs.
I moved into his bedroom permanently.
I tended to his bandages, managed his medication schedules alongside Dr. Vance, and read to him during the quiet afternoons while the snow piled high against the terrace windows. Grandma Clara was relocated to a magnificent private estate in Lake Forest under twenty-four-hour Hayes security, where she had access to the best physical therapists and cardiologists in the nation.
By mid-January, Vincent was finally able to sit up in the leather armchair beside the master fireplace, dressed in a soft charcoal cashmere robe.
Though his body was still healing, the sharp, calculating brilliance in his slate-gray eyes had fully returned.
Luke entered the study, closing the heavy mahogany doors behind him, holding a thick manila dossier.
“Boss,” Luke said, bowing his head respectfully. “We finished sweeping Moretti’s encrypted hard drives from his downtown office.”
Vincent took a sip of hot tea from the porcelain cup I handed him, nodding slightly. “What did you find?”
“Moretti didn't act alone when he sabotaged the elevator three weeks ago,” Luke revealed, his voice dropping into a dangerous hush. “He had an inside informant inside Hayes Tower. Someone high up in executive management authorized the bypass codes that trapped you in that car with Claire.”
My breath hitched. The entire nightmare hadn't been a random coincidence; it had been an orchestrated inside assassination attempt.
Vincent set his teacup down with deliberate, terrifying slowness. The temperature in the room plummeted.
“Who was it, Luke?” Vincent asked, his tone deceptively smooth.
“David Sterling,” Luke answered. “The Chief Financial Officer. He was promised a forty percent stake in Moretti’s southern territory once you were eliminated.”
David Sterling had been Vincent’s father’s closest friend and a trusted board member of Hayes Global for over fifteen years.
I looked at Vincent, expecting an explosion of rage.
May you like
Instead, his face went completely blank, transformed into a mask of pure, merciless ice.
“David has a board meeting scheduled at Hayes Tower tomorrow morning at ten,” Vincent said quietly. “Ensure all exits are locked from the outside.”
