Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Fifteen Years
Adrien did not flinch as the barrel of the silenced pistol leveled at his heart.
“You think Lorenzo Moretti is coming through the east gate at midnight, Thomas?” Adrien asked softly.
Thomas’s finger rested on the trigger. “He is already outside the perimeter wall.”
“Look out the window, Thomas,” Adrien said quietly.
Thomas’s eyes flicked sideways for half a second toward the massive bulletproof bay window overlooking the rear lawn.
Outside in the heavy fog, dark crimson flares burst into the sky.
The muffled sound of suppressed gunfire erupted along the eastern tree line. Heavy tactical spotlights suddenly slammed on across the entire twelve-acre estate, illuminating the fog in bright, blinding white light.
Through the window, Thomas saw dozens of Moretti mercenaries being surrounded by Julian and Leo’s tactical squads. The strike force Lorenzo Moretti had sent to breach the estate was being methodically, ruthlessly dismantled in the fog.
Thomas’s face turned ghost-white. His hand trembled against the grip of his gun.
“How?” Thomas breathed, panic finally breaking through his arrogant composure. “How did you know? The server logs were clean! The satellite link was encrypted! How did you find out about the terminal behind the wall?!”
Adrien took one final, decisive step forward.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it with one hand and held it up before Thomas’s eyes.
It was Zoe’s crayon drawing.
The bright, crooked drawing of the black house, the tall man with the crown, and the gray man holding a bright green snake behind his back.
Thomas stared at the paper in utter, bewildered shock. “What... what is this junk?”
“A three-year-old child drew this yesterday,” Adrien said, his voice ringing with absolute, triumphing power. “She saw you open the secret panel two nights ago while she was looking for her teddy bear under the stairs. She drew the green snake because she saw the logo on your phone.”
Thomas’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
The mastermind who had manipulated the Chicago underworld for thirty years, who had orchestrated assassinations, political bribes, and billion-dollar cartels, stood frozen in terror before a piece of paper painted with Crayola crayons.
“A child...” Thomas whispered, his voice cracking in sheer disbelief. “A toddler exposed me?”
“You thought love was a weakness, Thomas,” Adrien said, his voice dropping into a deep, resonant rumble that shook the quiet room. “You spent fifteen years convincing me that every human connection was a weapon aimed at my heart. But the child you wanted me to kick out onto the street was the very person who saved my life.”
“NO!” Thomas roared, his face contorted in insane fury as he pulled the trigger.
PHUT!
The silenced round fired.
Adrien had already moved. With the lightning instincts of a man trained in survival, he dodged to the left, caught Thomas’s wrist with his left hand, and twisted it upward with bone-shattering force.
CRACK!
Thomas shrieked in agony as his wrist snapped. The silver pistol dropped onto the Persian rug.
Adrien did not stop. He grabbed Thomas by the lapels of his tailored suit, lifted the older man off his feet, and hurled him violently across the room.
THUD!
Thomas slammed against the heavy mahogany bookcase. Dozens of leather-bound books rained down around him as he collapsed onto the floor, clutching his broken wrist, groaning in pain.
The double doors of the library burst open.
Leo and Julian rushed into the room, their weapons raised, followed by six armed guards.
“Boss!” Leo called out, scanning the room before locking his sights on the groaning traitor on the floor. “The Moretti force outside has been wiped out. Lorenzo Moretti was captured at the gatehouse.”
Adrien stood in the center of the library, his chest rising and falling in calm, steady breaths. He lowered his arms, adjusting the sleeves of his black sweater.
He looked down at Thomas Vance—the man who had ruined his youth, murdered his parents, and stolen fifteen years of his life.
“Take him to the basement, Leo,” Adrien commanded coldly. “Let him spend the rest of his night thinking about the green snake.”
“With pleasure, Boss,” Leo growled, grabbing Thomas by his collar and dragging him out of the room like a sack of trash.
Julian stepped over to Adrien, looking at the folded crayon drawing sitting on the desk.
“What about the estate, Boss?” Julian asked softly. “The Moretti family is finished in Chicago. The harbor routes are completely ours now.”
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Adrien picked up the crayon drawing, carefully folding it and placing it safely inside his breast pocket, right over his heart.
“The business is secure, Julian,” Adrien said, walking toward the library doors. “Now it’s time for me to go home.”
