Chapter 16 - Midnight on Lake Michigan
Silvio Bellandi had bolted.
He had managed to slip through the hotel’s private service corridors during the chaos as federal agents breached the front foyer. But Luca knew every subterranean tunnel, every sewer outlet, and every private slip along the Chicago lakefront.
Twenty minutes later, the midnight wind whipped viciously across the docks of Burnham Harbor. The freezing spray of Lake Michigan stung my cheeks as the black SUV screeched to a halt beside Pier 4.
At the end of the wooden pier, Silvio was frantically trying to untie the mooring lines of a luxury cruiser, his overcoat flapping in the gale. Two of his remaining personal guards were aiming weapons toward the ramp.
"Stay in the car, Clara," Luca ordered, his hand on the door handle.
"No," I said firmly, grabbing his sleeve. "He killed my father, Luca. I am not hiding in the shadows anymore."
Luca looked into my eyes. He saw no fear, only the unbreakable resolve of a woman who had survived the worst life could throw at her. He gave a single, tight nod, pulled an extra pistol from the glove compartment, and pressed it into my hand.
"Right beside me," he said.
We stepped out into the howling storm.
Silvio’s guards opened fire, but Marco and Luca’s tactical unit flanked them from the container crates to the left. A sharp, violent exchange of gunfire lit up the harbor in rapid flashes. Within thirty seconds, Silvio’s guards were neutralized, falling into the dark, churning waters of the lake.
Silvio slipped on the wet timber, falling onto his back near the edge of the dock. His gun skittered away, splashing into the black lake below.
Luca and I walked down the long pier, side by side, our boots thudding against the wooden planks.
Silvio scrambled backward on his hands and knees until his back hit the wooden bollard. He looked between Luca and me, his eyes wide with animal terror.
"Please... Luca... I built this city with your father!" Silvio begged, his voice cracking against the wind. "We were brothers!"
"Brothers don't put hits on brothers," Luca said, stopping five feet away. "And they don't murder honest men like Thomas Vance."
Luca looked at me, stepping back slightly, yielding the floor.
I stepped forward, looking down at the man who had cast twelve years of suffering over my family. I held the heavy firearm at my side, my knuckles pale against the steel.
"You took everything from me when I was a child," I said, my voice cutting through the roar of the wind. "You made my mother cry herself to sleep until her heart gave out. You thought because we were poor, we were nothing. That we had no teeth."
"Clara... please..." Silvio sobbed, tears mixing with the freezing lake spray on his cheeks. "I'll give you everything! The accounts in Zurich! Thirty million dollars! Take it and let me leave!"
"Keep your money, Silvio," I said coldly. "My father’s honor isn't for sale."
I turned my back on him and walked back toward Luca.
"He’s all yours," I told Luca.
Silvio sighed with a pathetic, gasping sob of relief, thinking he had survived.
Luca didn't say a word. He raised his Kimber .45, aimed cleanly, and fired one shot through Silvio Bellandi's kneecap.
Silvio screamed in agony, clutching his shattered leg.
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"The federal marshals are thirty seconds behind us, Silvio," Luca said coldly, lowering the weapon. "You'll survive. But you'll spend the next forty years rotting in an eight-by-ten concrete cell, thinking about Thomas Vance every single time you try to stand up."
***
