Chapter 19 - The Devil's Bargain
The rain poured violently over Chicago, washing the industrial district in a cold, unforgiving gray. Damian didn't bother knocking on the door of motel room 114. He kicked it off its hinges with a splintering crash.
Silas barely had time to reach for his weapon on the nightstand before Damian’s heavy combat boot pinned his hand completely to the floor, breaking three fingers instantly.
Silas screamed, but Damian silenced him by pressing the barrel of his gun directly into the traitor's forehead. The interrogation didn't last more than three minutes. Fear was an incredible motivator, and Silas gave up Victor Moretti's exact location to save his own miserable life.
Victor was hiding out in a high-rise penthouse downtown, completely insulated by heavily armed guards, waiting for midnight to collect his ransom. But Damian didn't plan on attacking the building. That would be suicide.
Instead, Damian orchestrated a play so flawlessly deceptive it bordered on madness. Using Silas’s phone, Damian sent a panicked text to Victor: "Caruso's men found me. The ledger is a fake. He kept the real one at the harbor warehouse."
It was a massive gamble, playing directly on Victor’s paranoia and greed. If Victor believed he had a worthless copy, he would have to move to secure the real one before Damian could destroy it.
At 11:00 PM, the trap was perfectly set at the abandoned harbor docks. I was watching the drone feed from the estate’s command center, my heart pounding as Victor’s black SUVs rolled into the desolate shipping yard.
Victor stepped out of his vehicle, clutching the black ledger against his chest, flanked by ten mercenaries. He looked furious, screaming orders into the rain.
Suddenly, the massive floodlights of the warehouse flicked on, completely blinding Victor's crew. Damian stood at the top of a shipping container, surrounded by thirty heavily armed loyalists with their laser sights painted directly on Victor’s chest.
"You always were too greedy, Victor," Damian’s voice boomed through a megaphone, cutting through the torrential rain.
Victor realized instantly that he had been completely outplayed. He held the ledger up like a shield. "Shoot me, and my men will email the digital copies to the feds instantly!" Victor screamed back.
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Damian smirked, a dark, victorious shadow in the night. "There are no digital copies, Victor. I installed a localized EMP device under your SUV while you were driving here. Your phones are dead. Your empire is dead."
Damian raised his hand, signaling his men to cock their weapons in deafening unison. Victor dropped the ledger onto the wet concrete, dropping slowly to his knees in absolute, pathetic defeat.
