Chapter 7 - The Intercept
Panic seized Tessa’s chest.
She was standing over a dead mob boss with blood on her shoes.
The police were already drawing their weapons outside the glass doors.
Tessa didn't think.
She ran toward the kitchen.
The cook yelled in surprise as she sprinted past the stoves.
She hit the back alley exit just as the front doors shattered behind her.
She sprinted blindly through the dark, rain-slicked alleyways of Chicago.
She didn't stop running until she reached a subway station miles away.
Back at the mansion, Vincent sat in silence.
The fake medical emergency was over.
The house was quiet again.
He glanced at the magazine covering the bug.
He needed to know if Lauren was working with his brother, or if there were two separate conspiracies.
He picked up his phone and called Lauren's cell.
She answered on the second ring.
"Vince? Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine," Vincent lied.
"Listen, I need a favor."
"Anything."
"I have a private shipment of offshore cash coming into the South Harbor tonight at 2 AM."
"Pier 44."
"I don't trust Marco with it."
"Can you go down there and secure the briefcase for me?"
There was a long pause on the other end.
"Of course, Vince," she said softly.
"I'll take care of it."
Vincent hung up.
It was a trap.
There was no shipment at Pier 44.
He just needed to see who showed up.
He logged into the harbor's private security cameras, which he owned.
At exactly 1:45 AM, black SUVs rolled onto Pier 44.
But it wasn't Lauren who stepped out of the cars.
It wasn't Dominic, either.
Dozens of heavily armed men in tactical gear poured onto the dock.
They swept the area with military precision.
Vincent recognized the insignia on their tactical vests.
They were Sinaloa Cartel enforcers.
The revelation hit Vincent like a physical blow.
Lauren hadn't just sold him out to his rivals.
She had sold the entire Chicago syndicate to the Mexican Cartel.
The trap had worked perfectly.
But as Vincent watched the screen, the camera feed abruptly went black.
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A second later, his bedroom door slowly creaked open.
Dominic stood in the doorway, holding a suppressed pistol.
