Chapter 2 - A DEAD MAN’S PROMISE|
"Where is your mama, Sophie?" Vincent asked, slowly dropping to one knee.
The entire restaurant gasped in collective shock. Don Vincent Torino did not kneel for anyone. Not for the mayor, not for the police chief, and certainly not for a street rat.
"At the flower shop," Sophie gasped, her lungs hitching. "On Halsted. Two men... they broke the glass. They said if she couldn't pay, she had to learn a lesson. They kept hitting her..."
Vincent’s jaw tightened once. A tiny pulse fluttered near his ear—the only sign of the violent storm rising inside him.
"Did they say their names?" he asked, his tone dropping into a terrifyingly analytical register.
"Carlos... and Miguel," she whimpered. "They took the money and laughed."
Behind Vincent, his lieutenant, Sandro, swallowed hard. "Boss, those are Razer’s enforcers. They’ve been pushing into our northern territory, squeezing small businesses."
Vincent stood up. The coldness returned to his eyes, but it was sharper now. Targeted.
"Tony," Vincent commanded his head of security. "Call Dr. Chen. Tell him to meet my car at Saint Catherine’s trauma bay in ten minutes. Sal, find Carlos and Miguel. Bring them to the Fifth Street warehouse. Alive."
"Boss," Tony hesitated, looking at the crying girl. "Are we really doing this for a civilian?"
Vincent turned his gaze onto Tony. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
"I asked for my car, Tony. I didn't ask for your opinion."
Twenty seconds later, the black armored SUV tore through the rainy Chicago streets. Sophie sat beside Vincent, staring out the window with hollow, traumatized eyes.
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"If she wakes up..." Sophie whispered softly, looking at his stained sleeve. "Please don't tell her I got blood on your jacket. She'll be embarrassed."
Vincent swallowed the lump in his throat. Thirty years in the underworld had hardened his heart to stone, but this child was casually breaking off pieces of it with every word.
