Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF DEBT|
"You're in Saint Catherine's Hospital, Ms. Martinez," Vincent said softly, stepping closer. "You're safe."
Elena tried to push herself up, but a sharp groan escaped her lips as her fractured ribs protested. Memories came flooding back in a violent wave—the shattered glass, the heavy boots, the terrified screams of her daughter.
"Sophie!" Elena gasped, pulling her daughter into a desperate, fragile embrace. "Oh God, Sophie... are you hurt? Did they touch you?"
"I'm okay, Mama," Sophie wept into her mother's neck. "Vincent saved us. He made the bad men go away."
Elena’s head snapped up, her protective instincts instantly flaring as she studied Vincent. She lived on Halsted; she wasn't naive. She recognized the custom Italian suit, the heavy gold ring, and the quiet, lethal presence of a man who controlled the dark side of the city.
"What do you want from us?" Elena asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound strong. "I don't have money. They took everything in the register."
Vincent felt a strange, uncomfortable pang in his chest. "I don't want your money, Ms. Martinez."
"Men like you don't do favors for free," she countered fiercely, clutching Sophie tighter. "What is the price?"
"The price has already been paid by the men who hurt you," Vincent said coldly. "Your shop is being rebuilt. Your medical bills are taken care of. You owe me nothing."
Elena stared at him, bewildered and angry. "I don't take charity from criminals."
Sal, standing in the doorway, scoffed quietly. No one spoke to Don Torino like that and survived.
May you like
Vincent merely raised a hand to quiet his lieutenant. He looked at Elena’s fierce, protective eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of respect.
"It isn't charity, Ms. Martinez," Vincent said softly. "It's justice. Something this city failed to give you."
