Chapter 3 - THE ARCHITECTURE OF A THREAT
Three days passed.
Three days of silence from the Morettis.
Three days of Victor breathing down my neck about the shipment in the harbor.
But my mind was a fractured mirror,
reflecting only pieces of Emily Carter.
I found myself sitting in my office,
the file on her life open on my desk.
I knew her favorite coffee shop.
I knew she liked old movies.
I knew she had a cat named 'Stitch' who had a shredded ear.
I was obsessed.
Not because I loved her—I didn't believe in love.
I was obsessed because she was the only thing in this city I couldn't control.
The phone on my desk buzzed.
It was Marcus,
my head of security.
"Boss,
we have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"The shooter.
We tracked him to a safe house in Cicero.
He’s not Moretti.
He’s freelance."
I sat up straighter,
the pain in my ribs now a dull,
throbbing ache.
"Who hired him?"
"That's the thing.
He wouldn't talk.
But we found something in his burner phone.
Photos."
"Photos of what?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"Photos of the nurse.
Emily Carter."
My heart stopped.
It didn't just skip a beat;
it felt like it had been encased in ice.
"Why her?"
I asked,
my voice deathly quiet.
"We're not sure.
But there were notes about her schedule.
The hospital.
Her apartment.
Even the clinic."
I didn't wait for him to finish.
I slammed the phone down and grabbed my jacket.
"Victor!"
I roared.
My consigliere appeared in the doorway instantly.
"Get the car.
Now."
"What happened?"
"Someone is targeting Emily.
And it's because of me."
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
By seeking her out,
by standing in front of that hospital in the rain,
I had marked her.
My enemies didn't care about her innocence.
They only cared about what I cared about.
And they had seen me looking at her.
We tore through the streets of Chicago,
ignoring traffic lights and the laws of physics.
Every second felt like an eternity.
I kept seeing her face,
that stubborn tilt of her chin,
and the way she looked in the rain.
If anything happened to her,
I would burn this city to the ground.
I would find every man involved and show them what 'dramatic' really looked like.
We arrived at her apartment building in Pilsen.
It was an old brick building,
charming but defenseless.
I took the stairs three at a time,
the stitches in my side screaming in protest.
I didn't care.
I reached her floor and kicked her door in without thinking.
The wood splintered,
the sound echoing through the small hallway.
"Emily!"
I shouted.
She was in the kitchen,
a plate of pasta in her hand.
She dropped the plate,
shattering it against the floor.
"What is wrong with you?"
she screamed,
her eyes wide with shock.
"Are you insane?"
I rushed to her,
grabbing her shoulders,
checking her for wounds I hadn't even seen yet.
"Are you okay?
Did anyone come here?"
She pushed me away,
her face flushed with anger.
"Get out!
You can't just break into my home,
Richard!
I don't care who you are!"
"Listen to me,"
I said,
my voice urgent,
trying to block out the sound of my own thundering pulse.
"You're in danger.
The people who tried to kill me...
they're looking for you."
Her anger didn't fade,
but it was joined by a flicker of fear.
"Why?
I have nothing to do with your life."
"Because they saw me with you.
They think you're leverage."
She laughed,
a harsh,
dry sound.
"Leverage?
I'm a nurse who treated you once.
I'm nothing to you."
I stepped closer,
trapping her against the kitchen counter.
"You saved my life,
Emily.
In my world,
that makes you everything."
The room went silent.
I could see the pulse jumping in her neck.
She looked at my eyes,
searching for the lie,
but she found only the truth.
Before she could speak,
the window in the living room shattered.
Glass rained down like diamonds,
and a red laser dot danced across the wall.
I didn't think.
I tackled her to the floor,
May you like
covering her body with mine,
as the first bullet whistled through the air where her head had been a second ago.
