Chapter 7 - The Syndicate's Shadow
Lorenzo didn’t go back to Chicago. He rented a cabin three miles down the road. He didn’t bother her, but he made sure her driveway was mysteriously plowed every morning. He made sure the local diner had its broken roof fixed by anonymous contractors. He was trying to court her from the shadows, proving he could be a shield without being a cage.
But Lorenzo’s absence in Chicago had left a vacuum. The Moretti family, a rival syndicate he had kept under his boot for years, smelled blood. They learned the untouchable Lorenzo DeMarco was hiding in rural Wisconsin, unprotected, obsessing over a woman.
It was a Tuesday night. Elena was closing the diner late. She turned off the neon sign, locked the register, and walked out the back door toward her truck.
Three black SUVs blocked the alley.
Four men stepped out. They didn’t look like locals. They wore expensive leather jackets and moved with the silent, predatory grace of hitmen.
“Elena Rossi?” the lead man asked, using her mother's name. He smiled, pulling a suppressed pistol from his jacket. “DeMarco sends his regards. Actually, no. We send our regards to DeMarco. Through you.”
May you like
Elena backed up against the brick wall, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked around for a weapon, a rock, anything. She was going to die here, in the freezing mud, because she had loved a monster.
Before the man could raise his gun, a shadow dropped from the fire escape above.
