Chapter 3 - THE MIDNIGHT RAIDAt 1:15 a.m., I handed little Liam to a trusted, sworn nurse who had been assigned exclusively to our private recovery suite, and walked out into the crisp New York night.
I didn't call the police. The police in Brooklyn were slow, bureaucratic, and easily influenced by high-priced defense lawyers. The mafia didn't rely on courts; we relied on absolute retribution.
Three blacked-out Escalades pulled up to the curb outside the hospital. The doors swung open, and Viktor—my most trusted enforcer, who had flown in from Europe ahead of schedule—stepped out, clad in a sharp charcoal suit.
"Boss," Viktor nodded, opening the rear door for me. "The team is assembled. We have the storage room surrounded. Not a single rat is leaving that building."
"Good," I muttered, sliding into the leather interior. "Mark is still inside the building. My mother and sister think they are safe in Miami, but they left their digital footprints wide open. I want every single asset they own frozen, every credit card maxed out, and their primary residence in Queens seized under a fabricated foreclosure notice by 3:00 a.m."
"Done," Viktor replied smoothly, tapping away on a secure tablet. "And the mother and sister?"
"Book two first-class tickets back to New York for the earliest morning flight," I ordered, my eyes reflecting the amber streetlights. "Tell them an 'emergency' regarding their bank accounts requires their immediate presence. Let's see how much they enjoy flying back into a trap."
When we arrived back at our apartment building, the lobby was eerily quiet. The New Year’s celebrations outside had died down, replaced by an eerie, frostbitten silence.
Viktor and two heavy-set guards flanked me as we descended the concrete stairs into the basement storage facility. The heavy steel fire door was ajar.
Inside, the warm glow of a desk lamp illuminated the cramped space. Mark was sitting on an upturned crate, counting stacks of banded hundred-dollar bills pulled directly from my private wall safe.
May you like
He looked up just as my shadow fell across the doorway.
The color drained instantly from his face. The cash slipped from his trembling fingers, fluttering like dead leaves onto the dusty concrete floor.
