Chapter 3 - THE OAK PARK EXTRACT
Gabriel’s fingers tightened on Olivia’s wrist.
Not in anger.
In absolute, lethal focus.
"Matteo," Gabriel commanded.
His voice did not rise.
It fell into a register that made the windowpanes hum.
"Get the convoy."
"How many units, boss?"
"All of them."
Gabriel pulled his phone from his trouser pocket.
He dialed three digits.
"Enzo. Take eight men to Oak Park. 1420 Maple Avenue."
A pause on the line.
"Bring Mrs. Carter’s mother and her daughter here."
"Now."
Olivia lunged forward, grabbing Gabriel’s forearm with both hands.
"I have to go with them," she pleaded.
Her fingernails dug through his white linen sleeve.
"Mr. Duca, please. Lily will be terrified. She doesn't know your men."
Gabriel looked down at her hands on his arm.
He didn't pull away.
"You stay here, Olivia."
"No!"
"If someone watched her school, they are watching the street."
Gabriel touched her cheek with his calloused thumb.
The touch was brief.
Firm.
Unmistakably protective.
"If you walk onto that street, you become a target."
"I don't care about myself!" Olivia cried, her voice cracking.
"I care," Gabriel said.
The words hung in the quiet room like a vow.
Olivia stepped back, her chest heaving.
Nero pressed his massive head against her thigh, offering silent comfort.
The dog whined softly, licking her trembling knuckles.
"Listen to me," Gabriel said, stepping toward her.
"Nobody touches a child under my roof."
"Whoever gave her that tracker signed their own death warrant."
Matteo re-entered the room carrying an armored tablet and a tactical radio.
"Enzo is four minutes out from Oak Park," Matteo reported.
On the screen, a GPS map showed three black dots moving west along Interstate 290.
The rain outside intensified, drumming against the high arched windows.
Olivia paced the length of the library rug.
Ten paces forward.
Ten paces back.
Her heart felt like a trapped bird inside her ribs.
Seven years old.
Lily was only seven.
She wore yellow rain boots and loved strawberry milk.
She had no place in Gabriel Duca’s dark world.
The tactical radio crackled with static.
Kzzzt.
"Boss," Enzo’s voice came through, strained and urgent.
"We have visual on the house."
Gabriel picked up the handset.
"Status."
"Front door is unlocked, boss."
Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"Check the perimeter," Gabriel ordered, his knuckles turning white on the desk edge.
Gunfire echoed over the small speaker.
Three sharp cracks.
Then the sound of shattering glass.
Olivia screamed.
"Enzo!" Gabriel barked into the radio.
"Report!"
Static hissed for five agonizing seconds.
Then a rough voice answered.
Not Enzo.
The voice was raspy, arrogant, and mocking.
"You're too late, Duca."
"The little girl is already in the wind."
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"And if you want to see her breathe again, bring the maid to Navy Pier."
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