Chapter 6 - The Burner Phone
The realization settled over the room like a thick, suffocating fog.
Corey Whitfield, a mid-level accountant, had a direct line to Winston Marchetti’s criminal syndicate.
“How is that even possible?” Brooklyn asked, her voice tight with anxiety.
Winston pulled a sleek black handgun from his desk drawer and checked the magazine.
“The Whitfield family has been laundering money for years,” Winston explained grimly.
“I assumed they worked for a rival crew, but it seems Corey has been secretly dealing with someone inside my own house.”
Elias typed frantically, trying to trace the encrypted text message.
“The signal is bouncing, but the recipient is definitely inside our perimeter,” Elias confirmed.
“Someone close to you knows you brought the woman from the lake here.”
Winston locked eyes with Brooklyn.
“You are not safe here anymore,” he stated.
He grabbed a heavy tactical jacket and tossed it to her.
“Put this on. We are leaving right now.”
Brooklyn didn't argue.
She slipped into the jacket and followed Winston down a hidden staircase behind the office bookcase.
They emerged into a dark, subterranean parking garage beneath the estate.
A bulletproof black SUV was waiting with the engine already running.
Winston pushed her into the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel.
He slammed on the gas, tearing out of the garage and into the rainy Chicago night.
“Where are we going?” Brooklyn asked, gripping the handle above the door.
“To a ghost location,” Winston replied, his eyes constantly checking the rearview mirror.
“Only three people in the world know it exists, and none of them are in Chicago.”
They drove in tense silence for forty minutes, navigating through industrial backroads.
Brooklyn’s mind raced with the implications.
Bradley hadn't just married her for her grandmother’s inheritance.
He and Corey were deeply embedded in a violent criminal underworld.
“Why didn't they just divorce me?” she wondered aloud.
“Why go through the trouble of murdering me in a freezing lake?”
Winston kept his eyes on the dark road ahead.
“Because your grandmother didn't just leave you fifty thousand dollars,” Winston revealed quietly.
Brooklyn turned to stare at him.
“What do you mean?”
“My people dug deeper into your family’s history,” Winston said.
“Your grandmother owned the deed to a massive commercial shipping port on the East Coast.”
Brooklyn shook her head, completely confused.
“She was a retired school teacher. She lived in a small apartment.”
“She was also a silent partner in one of the most lucrative smuggling routes in the country,” Winston corrected.
“The deed transfers to you upon her death, but it transfers to your spouse if you die without children.”
The freezing water suddenly made perfect sense.
Marlene’s cruel words about her infertility weren't just an insult.
They were the legal requirement for Bradley to inherit a billion-dollar smuggling port.
Winston pulled the SUV into an abandoned warehouse and killed the headlights.
He turned to look at her in the darkness.
“They didn't kill you for an insurance policy, Brooklyn.”
“They killed you for an empire.”
Suddenly, the heavy metal doors of the warehouse slammed shut behind them, sealing them inside.
May you like
Blinding floodlights snapped on, illuminating a dozen heavily armed men surrounding their vehicle.
Standing at the front of the pack was Winston’s own trusted underboss, Sal.
