Chapter 14 - The Chicago Connection
"Liam?" I gasped, stepping forward, the color draining entirely from my face. "Where is Liam?"
The captive operative smirked through blood-stained teeth. "He never left the private airstrip transfer. While you two were flying private jets to Switzerland, our guys intercepted his transport in Chicago. He’s currently leverage for the ultimate trade: the European ledger, for his life."
Victor didn't yell. He didn't lose his temper. Instead, the temperature in the chalet seemed to drop below freezing. His grip on the captive’s vest tightened until the fabric ripped.
"Paul," Victor spoke into his collar communicator with dead, chilling calm. "Status on the Chicago transfer."
Paul’s voice came back instantly, laced with panic. "Boss, I just checked the secure convoy. It was ambushed three miles outside O'Hare. Liam's tracker is offline. The New York faction has him."
I looked at Victor, the weight of our new life crashing down with devastating clarity. We had escaped Chicago, we had built an empire, but our enemies refused to let the past die.
"We're going back," I said, my voice steady, leaving no room for argument.
Victor turned away from the bleeding captive, letting him slump unceremoniously to the floor. He walked over to me, cupping my face in his large, warm hands, his dark eyes burning with absolute intensity.
"Chicago is a war zone right now, Elena," Victor warned softly. "If we walk back into their trap, there's no guarantee we walk out."
"We walked out once because we stood together," I replied, resting my hands over his heart, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm beneath his shirt—the exact same rhythm I had fallen asleep against months ago. "Let's go remind them who owns the city."
May you like
Victor’s expression softened into an expression of profound, unbreakable devotion. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Let's burn them to the ground," he whispered.
