Chapter 7 - The Gathering Storm
The St. Charles rail yard was a graveyard of twisted metal and burning trains.
Marcus Vance had thought he had the perfect ambush, but he had underestimated one crucial factor: Dante Moretti didn't rely on information from his captains; he had leaked the shipping data to Celeste on purpose. He had known she was a traitor for weeks, and he had used the rail yard as a giant trap to draw out the Vanguard syndicate’s entire core army.
By midnight, the battle was over. Marcus Vance lay wounded on the frozen gravel, his men either dead or captured by Moretti’s reinforced vanguard.
Dante walked through the snow, his long coat splattered with blood, his black pistol smoking in the freezing air. He stopped right in front of Marcus, looking down at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated ruthlessness.
"Where is she, Marcus?" Dante asked, his voice lower than the winter wind.
Marcus coughed up a spray of blood, a bitter, defeated laugh escaping his lips. "You think you won, Moretti? Check your phone. Celeste is currently inside your penthouse. She’s taking your little maid and your mother. By now, they're already at the old meatpacking district on the South Side. If you kill me... they die within ten minutes."
Dante’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking at a live security alert from the penthouse before the feed had cut out. He saw the image of Celeste holding a gun to Serena’s head.
A terrifying, primitive rage erupted inside Dante’s chest. He didn't say a word. He didn't yell. He simply raised his gun and fired a single shot into Marcus Vance’s chest, ending the Vanguard syndicate forever.
He turned to his primary captain, his face completely devoid of any human emotion. "Gather every man we have left. Call the captains from the West Side. We are entering the meatpacking district. Anyone who stands in our way dies. No survivors."
"Sir, the federal agents have a perimeter around that sector due to a warehouse investigation," the captain warned, his face pale. "If we go in with heavy weapons, it will be a full-scale war with the government."
"Then let it be war," Dante roared, stepping into his armored SUV, the engine screaming as he slammed on the gas, tearing out of the rail yard toward the South Side like a demon unleashed.
Inside the abandoned meatpacking warehouse, the air smelled of old iron and frozen rot. Serena and Valentina were tied to two heavy wooden chairs in the center of a wide, concrete room, illuminated by a single, harsh construction light hanging from the ceiling rafters.
Celeste sat on a wooden crate twenty feet away, a bottle of expensive champagne in her hand, taking small sips as she watched the door. Her phone rang, and she answered it eagerly.
"Marcus? Is it done?"
The voice on the other end wasn't Marcus. It was one of her lookouts from the perimeter, his voice shaking with absolute terror. "Ms. Bowmont, Marcus is dead! The Vanguard army at the rail yard was wiped out! Dante Moretti is here... he’s outside the gates right now with a hundred vehicles! He’s breaching the main doors!"
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Celeste dropped the champagne bottle, the glass shattering on the concrete, the golden liquid spilling into the dust. Her face turned completely white, the manic, psychotic insanity returning to her eyes with a double vengeance.
"He's here," she whispered, her hands shaking as she pulled her silver pistol from her coat. She stood up, walking slowly toward Serena, her boots clicking like a countdown. "He came for you. He risked everything for you. Let's see him save you now."
