Chapter 4 - The Ghost in the Rain
A large man with a shotgun stepped into our room, scanning the shadows.
I threw the blinking GPS tracker directly at his face and shoved Ellie out the bathroom window.
I squeezed through the narrow frame right behind her, dropping into the muddy alley.
Gunfire ripped through the thin bathroom wall, raining plaster dust down on us.
I picked up Ellie and ran blindly into the freezing Chicago rain.
We ducked behind a row of overflowing dumpsters just as the men stormed out of the motel.
They fanned out, their tactical flashlights cutting through the dark alleyway.
"Find the kid, shoot the mother," a familiar voice barked into the night.
It was Lorenzo Moretti, leading the hit squad himself.
I pulled Ellie tightly against my chest, covering her mouth so she wouldn't make a sound.
A flashlight beam swept across the dumpsters, stopping just inches from my foot.
The armed man stepped closer, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Suddenly, a massive shadow dropped from the fire escape above us.
A knife flashed in the rain, and the armed man collapsed silently into the mud.
Vincent Moretti stood over the body, his expensive suit soaked in blood and rain.
He looked like an absolute demon, his eyes burning with cold fury.
He placed a finger over his lips, gesturing for me to stay perfectly still.
Vincent moved through the alleyway like a ghost, hunting his brother's men one by one.
I watched in terrifying awe as he dismantled four trained killers with nothing but his bare hands and a blade.
Finally, only Lorenzo remained, standing near the end of the alley.
Vincent stepped out from the shadows, facing his older brother.
"Why, Lorenzo?" Vincent asked, his voice cracking with pure heartbreak.
Lorenzo raised his gun, his hands shaking violently.
"Because she was going to turn states evidence, Vincent," Lorenzo yelled defensively.
"Sofia was going to give the feds the ledger, and she would have destroyed our entire family."
Vincent lowered his head, the rain washing the blood from his face.
"She was my family," Vincent whispered.
Vincent drew a hidden pistol from his waistband and fired a single shot.
Lorenzo dropped his weapon and fell backward onto the wet asphalt, dead.
Vincent turned around and walked slowly back to the dumpsters where we were hiding.
He looked at me, completely exhausted and shattered.
"We have to get Isabella," he said quietly.
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Before he could take another step, Vincent's eyes rolled back in his head.
He collapsed into the mud, a massive gunshot wound bleeding profusely from his side.
