Chapter 2 - THE GHOST OF GABRIEL TORINOVincent’s convoy raced through Chicago beneath a sky split by lightning.
Elena lay unconscious in the back of an armored ambulance while Dr. Romano fought to stabilize her. Sophie sat beside Vincent in the rear of a black SUV, wrapped in his suit jacket.
She had stopped crying.
That frightened Vincent more than her screams.
Children were supposed to cry after witnessing violence. Silence meant the terror had traveled too deep for tears.
“Is my mommy going to wake up?” Sophie asked.
Vincent looked toward the ambulance ahead.
“Yes.”
“You don’t know that.”
Her quiet honesty caught him off guard.
“No,” he admitted. “But I have the best doctor in the city.”
Sophie studied him.
“Are you a bad man?”
Vincent’s bodyguard, Marco Bellini, glanced toward the rearview mirror.
Vincent did not look away from the child.
“Yes.”
Sophie tightened the jacket around herself.
“Are you bad to everyone?”
“Not everyone.”
“Were you bad to my daddy?”
The question struck harder than Derek’s final revelation.
Vincent turned toward the rain-streaked window.
Gabriel had been twelve years younger than him. He had laughed too loudly, trusted too easily, and hated the criminal empire their father had forced upon them.
Vincent had embraced the Torino legacy.
Gabriel had tried to escape it.
Seventeen years earlier, Gabriel’s car had been found burning beneath a bridge. A body wearing his ring had been recovered from the wreckage.
Vincent had buried an empty coffin because the remains were too badly damaged to identify.
Or so he had been told.
“I thought your father died before you were born,” Vincent said.
Sophie shook her head.
“He died last winter.”
Vincent’s hands curled into fists.
Someone had lied to him for seventeen years.
The convoy entered the underground garage of Torino Tower, an imposing black building overlooking Lake Michigan. An elevator carried Elena directly to Vincent’s private medical facility on the thirty-seventh floor.
Sophie refused to leave her mother’s side.
Vincent remained outside the operating room while surgeons worked to stop Elena’s internal bleeding.
Marco approached him.
“The sniper used a military-grade rifle. No shell casing, no fingerprints, no security footage.”
“Traffic cameras?”
“Disabled three minutes before the shot.”
“Inside help?”
“Almost certainly.”
Vincent looked through the glass at Sophie holding Elena’s limp hand.
“Find every man who knew about the South Side operation.”
“That includes forty-two people.”
“Then question forty-two people.”
Marco hesitated.
“There’s something else. Derek Kane’s records were wiped remotely after his death. Bank accounts, property files, phone records—everything disappeared.”
“Someone cleaned him before his body hit the floor.”
“Yes.”
Vincent reached into his pocket and removed Gabriel’s pendant.
“Run the photograph. Find out where it was taken.”
Marco accepted it carefully.
“Do you believe the girl is your niece?”
“I believe someone murdered Derek to stop him from proving it.”
Several hours later, Dr. Romano emerged.
“Elena survived surgery. She has a skull fracture, three broken ribs, and internal bleeding. She’s stable, but I don’t know when she’ll wake.”
Sophie slipped out of the room.
Vincent knelt in front of her.
“Your mother is alive.”
The girl threw her arms around his neck.
Vincent froze.
No one touched him without permission. Not allies, not employees, not even family.
Yet he slowly placed one hand against Sophie’s back.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
That night, Sophie slept in a room guarded by four armed men.
Vincent entered his office and found his consigliere, Dominic Russo, waiting beside the fireplace.
Dominic had served the Torino family for thirty years. His white hair and gentle voice concealed one of the sharpest minds in Chicago.
“I heard about the pendant,” Dominic said.
“Who identified Gabriel’s body?”
“Your father’s physician.”
“Dr. Aldo Marconi.”
“He died twelve years ago.”
“Who witnessed the autopsy?”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“Your father, Marconi…and me.”
Vincent stared at him.
“You saw the body?”
“I saw what remained.”
“Did you verify the dental records?”
“Your father handled the paperwork.”
“My father was already suffering from dementia.”
“No one knew that then.”
Vincent poured a glass of whiskey but did not drink it.
“Someone used him.”
“Or Gabriel arranged his own death.”
Vincent turned sharply.
Dominic continued cautiously.
“Gabriel wanted freedom. He knew your father would never release him. Perhaps disappearing was his only escape.”
“Then why return to Chicago?”
“Maybe he never left.”
Marco entered with a sealed evidence bag.
“We located the building in the photograph. It was taken outside Saint Augustine’s Church in Pilsen, seven years ago.”
Vincent recognized the name.
Gabriel had once volunteered there as a teenager.
“The priest?”
“Father Michael Brennan. He retired six months ago and vanished.”
Vincent’s phone rang.
The caller ID showed a private number.
He answered.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Stop searching for Gabriel.”
“Who is this?”
“You protected the girl tonight. Next time, you’ll be the reason she dies.”
The call ended.
At that same moment, alarms screamed throughout the tower.
Marco drew his weapon.
“Security breach!”
The lights went dark.
Gunfire erupted on the floor below.
Vincent ran toward Sophie’s room as emergency lights flashed red along the corridor. Two guards lay unconscious outside her door.
The room was empty.
The window stood open despite being thirty-seven floors above the street.
On Sophie’s pillow rested a photograph.
It showed Gabriel Torino standing beside Elena and a newborn baby.
A man’s face was reflected faintly in the hospital window behind them.
Vincent recognized that face too.
It belonged to Dominic Russo.
Vincent slowly looked toward his oldest adviser.
Dominic had followed him into the room.
May you like
For the first time, fear appeared in the consigliere’s eyes.
Before Vincent could draw his gun, Sophie screamed from somewhere inside the walls.
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