Chapter 3 - The Wolf Must Leave
Richard Vale believed Dominic was dead.
That mistake lasted exactly twenty-eight hours.
By the following evening, Richard had gathered his allies for a victory celebration at the Ashcroft Theater, an ornate old opera house in downtown Chicago.
Dominic had fewer than twenty loyal men left.
Victoria had one advantage.
Nobody considered the former waitress dangerous.
She entered through the catering entrance wearing a dark green evening gown and carrying a tray of champagne.
Dominic entered ten minutes later through the front doors.
Conversation stopped.
Richard stood halfway up the marble staircase.
For the first time in Victoria’s presence, he looked genuinely afraid.
“Dominic.”
Dominic adjusted his cuff links.
“Uncle.”
“We heard you had an accident.”
“I went swimming.”
Dominic smiled.
“Very refreshing.”
Every eye in the theater followed him.
Victoria moved unnoticed.
She circulated through the crowd, listening.
Italian.
Russian.
English.
Fragments of Polish.
Businessmen, politicians, smugglers, attorneys, men who had spent decades learning to hide threats inside compliments.
Near the orchestra pit, two Russians spoke quietly.
Victoria passed them once.
Then again.
The second time, she understood enough.
“The device is beneath the stage.”
She nearly dropped the tray.
The other man whispered, “Midnight.”
Victoria looked at the clock.
11:42.
She moved closer.
“When Vale and Richard are together, we leave.”
“Both?”
“Both. Then Chicago has no king.”
Victoria’s blood went cold.
Richard thought the Russians were helping him.
They were planning to kill everyone.
Dominic stood across the ballroom surrounded by Richard’s men.
She couldn’t reach him.
She couldn’t shout.
Then she saw the microphone onstage.
Victoria walked toward it.
The orchestra conductor frowned as she climbed the steps.
“Miss, you can’t—”
She took the microphone.
The room gradually quieted.
Dominic looked at her.
Victoria began singing.
She had not sung publicly since high school.
Her voice trembled on the first note.
Then steadied.
It was an old southern Italian lullaby.
Richard smirked.
The Russians ignored her.
But Victoria changed the words.
She sang in the rare dialect that had first saved Dominic’s life.
The bear buried fire beneath the wooden moon.
When the twelfth bell speaks, the house becomes a grave.
The wolf must leave before midnight.
The wolf must leave.
Dominic stopped moving.
Their eyes met.
Victoria saw understanding arrive.
Richard applauded mockingly.
Dominic smiled.
Then he threw an arm around his uncle’s shoulders.
“You win.”
Richard blinked.
“What?”
“I’m tired of this.”
Dominic raised his voice.
“Champagne outside. Everyone. I want the whole city to see us toast peace.”
Richard looked suspicious.
“Why outside?”
“Because after the month I’ve had, I need air.”
Dominic began moving him toward the terrace doors.
The crowd followed.
Power followed spectacle.
Victoria stepped off the stage.
11:56.
One of the Russians realized what was happening.
He grabbed her arm.
“Where are you going?”
Victoria smiled.
“To get more champagne.”
He tightened his grip.
Then Dominic’s man slammed a serving cart into him.
“Run,” the guard said.
Victoria ran.
At 11:59, the last guests spilled onto the terrace.
The explosion came fourteen seconds after midnight.
Glass burst outward.
Fire rolled through the stage.
People screamed.
Dominic pulled Victoria behind a stone pillar as debris rained over the balcony.
Richard stared at the burning theater.
His face had gone gray.
“You didn’t know,” Dominic said.
Richard turned.
“You brought them into my city, and you didn’t even know they were planning to bury you with me.”
“I can explain.”
Dominic grabbed him by the collar.
“No.”
A gunshot cracked across the street.
Richard jerked.
He collapsed.
Victoria stared at the dark rooftop opposite the theater.
“Sniper.”
Dominic pulled her down.
His men surrounded them.
The shot hadn’t been meant only to silence Richard.
It had been a message.
Someone else was still running the game.
Three days later, Dominic controlled Chicago again.
Mason disappeared before Dominic’s men could find him.
The Russian faction retreated after their betrayal became public among the city’s criminal organizations.
Victoria should have felt relieved.
Instead, she couldn’t stop thinking about one question.
Where was Michael Carson?
On the fourth morning, a package arrived at Dominic’s penthouse.
Inside was a phone.
It rang.
Victoria stared at it.
Dominic answered and put the call on speaker.
“Hello, Victoria.”
Her knees weakened.
She knew the voice.
Older.
Smoother.
But unmistakable.
“Dad?”
Michael Carson laughed softly.
“My brilliant girl.”
Victoria couldn’t speak.
“I heard about the opera house. Using the old dialect to warn Vale? Clever.”
“You watched?”
“Of course.”
“You knew they were going to kill me.”
A pause.
“I knew there was risk.”
Victoria’s throat tightened.
“Risk?”
“I’ve spent five years building something enormous, sweetheart. You don’t build empires by panicking every time someone gets emotional.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
Victoria whispered, “You let me think you were dead.”
“It kept you safe.”
“I was seventeen.”
“And alive.”
“I slept in bus stations.”
“You survived.”
“I changed my name four times.”
“You adapted.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“You sound proud.”
“I am.”
Michael’s voice softened.
“You’re more like me than you want to admit.”
Victoria looked at Dominic.
He shook his head once.
Not as an order.
As reassurance.
Michael continued.
“Vale will eventually destroy you. Men like him love only power.”
Dominic almost smiled at the irony.
“Come to me. I’m at a private airfield outside Gary. My plane leaves tonight. You’ll never have to hide again.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“What if I don’t come?”
Her father’s voice changed.
“Then you’ve chosen a side.”
The call ended.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Finally Dominic placed a handgun on the table.
“You don’t have to go.”
“Yes, I do.”
“He may be setting a trap.”
“He is.”
Dominic frowned.
“Then why go?”
Victoria picked up the weapon.
Checked it.
Set it back down.
“Because I’ve spent five years running from a dead man.”
She looked at him.
“I’d like to meet the living one.”
Rain swept across the private airfield that night.
A jet waited with its engines running.
Michael Carson stood at the bottom of the stairs wearing an expensive gray suit.
Victoria hadn’t seen him since she was seventeen.
For years, she had remembered him as taller.
Kinder.
Now she saw an aging man who had polished selfishness until it resembled confidence.
Two armed guards stood behind him.
Dominic stopped beside the car.
Michael smiled.
“Victoria.”
She walked forward alone.
“My God,” he whispered. “Look at you.”
He opened his arms.
She didn’t enter them.
His smile faded.
“I came for one answer.”
“Anything.”
“Did you love me?”
Michael sighed.
“Don’t be childish.”
Victoria felt something inside her finally break free.
Not her heart.
The chain around it.
“I’m serious.”
“I protected you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Love is a word people use when they want permission to make stupid decisions.”
Victoria stared at him.
Michael smiled gently.
“Get on the plane.”
“No.”
His smile vanished.
“Victoria.”
“You didn’t protect me. Anthony Vale protected me. You protected yourself.”
“You don’t understand what was at stake.”
“Ten million dollars?”
“Power.”
“And your daughter was cheaper.”
Michael looked toward Dominic.
“This is what he has done to you.”
Dominic didn’t move.
Victoria shook her head.
“No. You did this.”
Michael snapped his fingers.
His guards raised their weapons toward Dominic.
Victoria pulled Dominic’s gun from beneath her coat.
She aimed it at her father.
Michael actually laughed.
“You won’t shoot me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my blood.”
“No.”
Rain ran down Victoria’s face.
“Blood is biology.”
She steadied her hands.
“Family is who stays.”
Michael’s smile disappeared.
“Put the gun down.”
“No.”
His hand moved toward his jacket.
Victoria fired.
The bullet struck his thigh.
Michael screamed and collapsed.
At the same instant, Dominic moved.
Two shots.
Both guards went down, wounded and disarmed before they could fire.
Victoria approached her father.
Michael clutched his leg.
“You little traitor.”
She kicked his weapon away.
“You taught me.”
Sirens sounded beyond the airfield gates.
Michael looked up sharply.
Victoria saw fear.
Real fear.
“What did you do?”
“I sent copies of your financial records to federal prosecutors and three investigative reporters.”
Michael’s face emptied.
“Victoria.”
“The bonds. The accounts. The companies. Everything.”
“You stupid girl.”
“Maybe.”
The flashing lights grew brighter.
“But I’m finally done paying for your choices.”
Michael stared at her with hatred.
“I gave you life.”
Victoria looked down at him.
“And then you left me to survive it alone.”
Dominic touched her elbow.
“We should go.”
Victoria turned.
Michael shouted after her.
“You think Vale is different? You think he’ll choose you over his empire?”
Victoria stopped.
She looked back once.
“No.”
Michael smiled triumphantly.
May you like
Then she added, “That’s why I finally learned to choose myself.”
She walked away.
