Chapter 17 - The Ghost Returns
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We spent the next two days tearing the Chicago syndicate apart from the inside.
The ledger was a goldmine of corruption. Larkin’s team used the client list to systematically blackmail every corrupt politician, judge, and police commissioner the Chicago outfit had bought. Without their political protection, the underground casino was raided by the FBI within forty-eight hours, completely severing the rival syndicate’s foothold in New York.
We were celebrating the victory in the penthouse. I was standing in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of champagne, wearing one of Larkin’s oversized dress shirts.
Larkin was in his study, finishing a call with Viktor Volkov, securing the newfound peace on the docks.
The intercom buzzer near the private elevator chimed.
I frowned, setting the champagne down. Silas and the guards were stationed downstairs; no one was supposed to access the penthouse without clearance. I walked over to the intercom screen and pressed the visual feed.
The blood instantly drained from my face. The glass of champagne I had been holding would have shattered if I hadn't already set it down.
Standing in the lobby, looking directly into the security camera, was a man I hadn't seen in ten years.
He had silver hair, a jagged scar across his chin, and eyes as cold as a frozen lake.
It was Marcus Thorne. The head of the Chicago syndicate. The man who had ordered the hit on my family five years ago.
He smiled at the camera, holding up a small, silver locket. My mother’s locket. The one I had lost the night I ran away.
“I know you're up there, little bird,” Thorne’s voice crackled softly through the intercom speaker. “Your new boss made a lot of noise with that ledger. But he left a digital footprint. And a girl with your specific skill set is hard to hide forever.”
My heart hammered violently against my ribs. I couldn't breathe. The ghost I had spent my entire adult life running from was standing at my front door.
Larkin walked out of the study, seeing my pale, terrified face. He immediately looked at the intercom screen.
His eyes darkened into absolute, murderous rage.
“Silas,” Larkin barked into his comms. “Lock down the building. Do not let the man in the lobby leave alive.”
“Larkin, wait,” I choked out, grabbing his arm. “He didn't come here alone. If Thorne is standing in your lobby, he brought an army. He wants to draw you out.”
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“I don't care what he brought,” Larkin snarled, drawing his weapon. “He threatened what is mine.”
Before Larkin could take another step, the massive, reinforced glass windows of the penthouse violently shattered inward.
