Chapter 1 - The Freight Yard Whisper
Norah looked at the young girl standing beside the industrial coffee machine.
The afternoon shift had just ended, leaving the expensive restaurant empty and remarkably quiet.
"What did your dad say, Lily?" Norah asked, keeping her voice carefully low.
Lily pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her shoulders, her hands trembling visibly.
"He said Valerie Whitmore isn't just a wealthy girl with a bad temper."
"Her family controls the major shipping ports on the East Side."
"And Dominic Mercer runs absolutely everything else in this city."
Norah sighed, slowly untying the strings of her stained apron.
"That doesn't matter to us, Lily."
"We just serve them their food and go home."
Lily shook her head frantically, her eyes wide with genuine panic.
"You really don't understand, Norah."
"My dad said Valerie's family is trying to buy Dominic out of his own territory."
"They are actively looking for any public excuse to start a massive turf war."
Norah stopped wiping the stainless steel counter.
She remembered the terrifyingly cold look in Dominic's gray eyes when he told Valerie to sit down.
It was definitely not the look of a man who was about to be intimidated or bought out by anyone.
"Go home, Lily," Norah advised softly.
"Lock your doors tonight and do not talk to anyone about this."
Norah grabbed her worn wool coat and stepped out into the freezing Chicago alleyway.
The sky overhead was already turning a bruised, violent shade of purple.
She walked three blocks toward the elevated train station, her feet aching sharply with every single step.
A sleek black SUV was idling near the cracked curb, its tinted windows completely opaque.
Norah kept her head down and tried to walk quickly past it.
The heavy rear door swung open, completely blocking the narrow sidewalk.
Dominic Mercer sat in the back seat, half-hidden in the deep shadows of the interior.
"Get in," he commanded, his voice completely devoid of any emotion.
Norah froze on the freezing pavement, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs.
"I am absolutely not getting in a car with a mafia boss," she replied, trying to sound much braver than she actually felt.
Dominic leaned forward slightly, the yellow streetlights catching the sharp angle of his jaw.
"You are going to get in this car right now, Norah."
"Because in exactly thirty seconds, the man walking up the street behind you is going to shoot you."
Norah turned her head slowly, her breath catching in her throat.
A man in a heavy gray parka was walking briskly through the falling snow, reaching into his pocket.
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It was definitely not a cell phone he was pulling out.
It was the dark, heavy grip of a suppressed pistol aimed directly at her chest.
