Chapter 9 - The Ghost from the PastThe penthouse of the Vale Tower was a masterpiece of modern architecture and classic luxury—floor-to-ceiling glass walls offering a panoramic view of Lake Michigan, surrounded by priceless art and minimalist furniture.
Lev was sitting on a plush sofa, working on a laptop, when they walked in. He looked up, smiling when he saw Tilda.
"Hey, Tilda! I heard we just chased the feds out of the lobby. That was epic!"
Tilda offered a weary smile, walking over and gently ruffling the boy's dark hair. "It was entirely too stressful, kiddo. Don't try that at home."
Damon motioned for Tilda to follow him toward his private study at the far end of the penthouse. Once the heavy soundproof glass doors closed behind them, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically.
Damon walked over to the mahogany desk, unlocked a hidden drawer, and pulled out an old, yellowed manila folder tied with a faded red ribbon.
He placed it on the desk between them.
"What is this?" Tilda asked, looking at the worn folder.
"Marcone wasn't the only one who wanted my empire, Tilda," Damon said, his voice dropping into a somber, reflective tone. "When my wife died six years ago, the police ruled it a tragic hit-and-run on Lake Shore Drive. But I never believed it."
Tilda looked up, her breath catching. "You think she was murdered?"
"I know she was murdered," Damon corrected quietly, opening the folder to reveal a series of old crime scene photographs, autopsy reports, and a single, grainy photograph of a man with a distinct scar running across his left cheek. "The man who ordered the hit wasn't Marcone. Marcone was just a foot soldier. The man pulling the strings from the shadows was Julian Vance—Marcus Vance’s brother."
Tilda’s eyes widened in horror. "Agent Vance’s brother?"
"Julian Vance runs an international syndicate operating out of Zurich and Montreal," Damon explained, his eyes burning with a cold, focused fire. "For years, I’ve been building a case against him, legitimizing my assets so I could fight him on legal and financial grounds without destroying the city. But tonight... when Marcus tried to raid my tower using his daughter as a mole... it wasn't a random federal investigation."
Damon looked straight into Tilda’s eyes.
"It was a distraction. While Marcus kept me occupied here in Chicago, Julian’s elite operatives just crossed the Canadian border."
Tilda’s blood ran cold. "They're coming for Lev."
Before Damon could answer, the entire penthouse shuddered violently.
The lights flickered and went black again—not from a local power outage, but from an EMP pulse that instantly fried every electronic system in the building.
May you like
The security alarms didn't even have time to sound.
From the hallway outside the study, the sound of heavy boots echoed across the marble floor, accompanied by the distinct, terrifying sound of automatic weapon fire.
