Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR WITHINThe armored black SUV tore through the rain-slicked streets of downtown Chicago at breakneck speed, its tinted windows deflecting the neon glow of the midnight cityscape.
Inside the climate-controlled cabin, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Lily had fallen back asleep against Beatrice’s shoulder, her breathing soft and even. Beatrice gently stroked the little girl’s hair with her uninjured hand, her mind racing a mile a minute.
Up front, Leo sat in the passenger seat, staring intently at a secure laptop screen displaying encrypted financial ledgers, satellite feeds, and intercepted phone calls. His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked rhythmically in his cheek.
“Mr. Rossi,” Beatrice ventured softly, breaking the heavy silence. “You said Victoria wasn't working alone.”
Leo didn’t look up from the screen. “Victoria is a socialite. She doesn't have the tactical know-how to disable a master circuit breaker, nor does she have the security override codes for the armory. Someone inside my inner circle let her out of the sub-basement and gave her the tools.”
“Who?”
“Marco,” Leo said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
Beatrice gasped. “Your second-in-command? The man who’s been by your side for ten years?”
“Power makes people greedy, Beatrice,” Leo replied coldly, tapping a key on the laptop. A live security camera feed popped up on the display, showing a private hangar at Chicago Midway Airport.
Parked on the tarmac was Leo’s private Gulfstream jet.
Standing beside the loading ramp, frantically pacing back and forth while speaking into a burner phone, was Marco.
“He thinks I’m still stuck in Miami,” Leo said, a dangerous, razor-sharp smile touching his lips. “He thinks Victoria succeeded in eliminating me and the child. He’s trying to transfer our offshore accounts to a Swiss bank account before sunrise.”
“Are we going to the airport?” Beatrice asked, a sudden chill running down her spine.
“No,” Leo said, looking back over his shoulder at her. “We’re going to pay my old friend a very special visit.”
Twenty minutes later, the SUV slid silently to a halt in the shadowed perimeter of the private airfield, hidden behind a row of empty cargo containers.
The rain had turned into a steady, freezing drizzle.
Leo popped the trunk, reaching inside to pull out a sleek, suppressed submachine gun and a heavy tactical vest, strapping them on with practiced, lethal efficiency.
He turned to Beatrice, who was holding a sleeping Lily in the back seat.
“Stay in the vehicle. Lock the doors from the inside. If anyone approaches this SUV who isn’t me, you press this emergency panic button on the dashboard. It will flood the cabin with armored carbon plating and lock the chassis down.”
“Mr. Rossi,” Beatrice said, her eyes wide with urgency. “Let me come with you.”
Leo frowned, pausing mid-stride. “Out of the question. It’s a firefight waiting to happen.”
“You have three fingers on your right hand that are completely fine, but your left side took a heavy iron blow from Victoria earlier,” Beatrice pointed out, her voice hard and unyielding. “And you’re carrying Lily’s weight. You need someone to watch your blind spot while you move across that open tarmac.”
Leo stared at her in utter disbelief. For a moment, the hardened crime lord looked genuinely shocked that a maid—a woman who had spent her entire life apologizing for existing—was arguing tactical positioning with him.
Then, a slow, dark chuckle escaped his lips.
“You really don't know when to stay down, do you, Beatrice?”
“I’m already in deep enough, sir,” Beatrice said, shifting Lily carefully into a secure car seat built into the rear of the vehicle, clicking the safety harness into place. “Hand me the sidearm from the glove compartment.”
Leo didn't argue. He tossed a compact 9mm pistol across the console.
May you like
Beatrice caught it with her left hand, her fingers wrapping firmly around the textured grip. It felt heavy. Dangerous. Real.
And for the first time in her twenty-eight years of life, it felt completely right.
