Chapter 2 - The Crimson Shadow Over BridgeportThe twenty thousand dollars sat on the desk between them, a neat stack of green bills that could save Rachel’s clinic from foreclosure for the next year. But looking at it now, it felt less like payment and more like the opening move in a dangerous chess game.
"I don't work for the mafia, Mr. Vale," Rachel said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I save lives. That's it. Take your money back."
"Keep it," Dominic said flatly, sliding the cash across the wood until it touched her fingertips. "Consider it a down payment on your safety."
"My safety?" Rachel scoffed. "I live in a basement surrounded by rusted pipes and old ladies who bake cookies. Who is going to bother me?"
The door burst open.
Grant stumbled inward, blood soaking the sleeve of his black shirt, a jagged gash running across his forehead. "Boss—we’ve got a breach. The Pier 4 warehouse is on fire, and the Vanguard syndicate didn't just hit the cargo. They found the ledger."
Dominic’s expression morphed from calm intensity into absolute, chilling lethargy. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Who led them there?" Dominic asked, his voice chillingly quiet.
"Vance," Grant gasped, leaning against the doorframe. "He flipped. He gave them the location of the safehouses, including... including the backdoor routes to the Bridgeport medical clinics."
Rachel’s blood ran cold. Bridgeport. Her clinic was the only active medical facility in that specific block. If the Vanguard syndicate knew about the safehouses, they knew about her basement.
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Dominic turned back to Rachel, his eyes locking onto hers with terrifying precision.
"Pack your bags," he commanded. "You're coming with me."
