Chapter 7 - The House Where Leo WaitedSnow began falling before they crossed the Wisconsin border.
It was the first snow of the season.
Thin white streaks crossed the headlights while the convoy moved north through darkness.
Dominic sat inside the rear of the armored Escalade.
Abigail occupied the seat beside him.
Her hand rested over his.
The gesture had become familiar.
During his first journey outside the penthouse, she held him together while every mile felt like another step toward an explosion.
Tonight, Dominic watched the highway through the window.
His shoulders remained tense, but he did not close his eyes.
A truck passed on the left.
He flinched when its headlights swept across the cabin.
Abigail felt his fingers tighten.
“You are here.”
She spoke quietly.
“I know.”
“No Lower Wacker.”
“I know.”
“No explosion.”
Dominic looked toward her.
“You.”
A small smile appeared.
“Me.”
His breathing slowed.
In the front passenger seat, Tommy pretended not to hear them.
The Lake Geneva property stood near the end of a private road surrounded by woods.
It had not appeared on any Russo financial records for more than a decade.
Leo purchased the property using an anonymous holding company registered in Delaware.
A caretaker visited twice each month.
No one had lived inside the house since his death.
At 2:13 a.m., the iron gate appeared through falling snow.
Dominic stared at it.
Memory arrived before recognition.
He was 11.
Leo was 8.
Their mother stood near the garden wearing a straw hat.
There had been laughter here.
Before Luciano’s empire.
Before blood.
Before Dominic learned that family meant responsibility measured in funerals.
The convoy stopped.
Tommy’s men moved first.
They cleared the property room by room.
“No movement.”
Tommy returned.
“Alarm system is old but intact.”
Dominic stepped from the Escalade.
Snow landed on his dark coat.
He looked upward.
Open sky.
Cold air.
Trees moving in the wind.
He felt pressure begin behind his ribs.
Then Abigail came around the vehicle and slipped her fingers into his.
The pressure stopped growing.
Together, they approached the house.
Inside, the rooms had been preserved in strange suspension.
White sheets covered furniture.
Dust softened the wood floors.
Family photographs remained inside drawers because Luciano had ordered most photographs of his deceased wife removed from his Chicago homes.
Abigail picked one up.
A younger Dominic stood beside Leo near the lake.
Neither boy looked dangerous.
Dominic was thin and serious.
Leo grinned with 2 missing front teeth.
Their mother knelt between them.
“She was beautiful.”
Abigail said it softly.
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“Isabella.”
He had mentioned his mother only twice.
“She hated my father’s business.”
“What happened?”
“Cancer.”
His voice remained distant.
“Twenty-seven days from diagnosis to funeral.”
Abigail returned the photograph carefully.
“I am sorry.”
Dominic nodded once.
Then he turned away.
“We need the boathouse.”
They crossed the snow-covered lawn with flashlights.
The boathouse stood at the edge of the frozen dock.
Its roof sagged slightly.
The lake beyond was black.
Dominic pushed open the door.
The smell of old timber, water, and gasoline struck him.
A rowboat rested upside down inside.
Fishing equipment hung from rusted hooks.
He moved toward the rear wall.
“When we were children, there was a loose floorboard.”
Tommy illuminated the ground.
“Where?”
Dominic counted.
“Seven boards from the wall.”
They moved an old storage cabinet.
Beneath it, the seventh board contained 2 small nail holes.
Dominic lowered himself awkwardly.
Pain crossed his face.
Abigail immediately crouched beside him.
“I can do it.”
“No.”
He placed the end of his cane beneath the board and levered upward.
Wood groaned.
The plank lifted.
Beneath it was dirt.
Tommy looked unconvinced.
“We need shovels.”
“No.”
Dominic reached inside the exposed space.
“We were 9 and 12 when we buried it.”
His fingers found something.
“We did not dig deeply.”
He pulled a rusted metal box from the ground.
The old chess set.
Abigail’s heart accelerated.
Dominic opened it.
Black and white pieces rested inside deteriorating velvet.
The king was missing.
Tommy looked at him.
“Leo said you buried the king.”
Dominic removed the tray.
Beneath it was a waterproof packet.
No one spoke.
He opened it carefully.
Inside rested a flash drive.
A key.
And a folded piece of paper.
Dominic recognized the handwriting immediately.
D—
If you are reading this, I was right.
Do not trust the wolves.
Dad’s kingdom was never only Chicago.
The ledger is not money. It is ownership.
The key opens the first door.
The drive opens the second.
The third requires blood.
I tried to fix what he built.
Maybe I only made it worse.
If they come for me, protect yourself.
If they come for you, burn everything.
—L.
Dominic read the final line again.
His face contained no emotion.
Abigail felt grief radiating from him anyway.
Tommy looked toward the flash drive.
“Can we open it?”
Dominic handed it to him.
“Not here.”
A sudden metallic sound came from outside.
Everyone froze.
Tommy killed his flashlight.
The boathouse entered darkness.
Dominic drew his weapon.
Abigail did the same.
A second sound followed.
A car door.
Then another.
Tommy whispered into his radio.
“Outer team, status.”
Static.
His face changed.
“Outer team.”
Nothing.
Dominic’s eyes became cold.
“They followed us.”
“How?”
Abigail whispered.
“No one knew.”
Dominic looked toward the package.
“Someone always knows.”
Light moved between the trees.
Multiple beams.
Tommy counted silently.
At least 8.
Possibly more.
Dominic examined the boathouse.
One main door.
Two side windows.
Rear access toward the water.
“We do not fight from here.”
He looked at Abigail.
“Can you swim?”
She stared at the black lake.
“Not through ice.”
“Good answer.”
Tommy almost smiled.
The approaching men spread across the property.
Dominic heard boots crunching snow.
Then a voice called from outside.
“Mr. Russo.”
Not Carmine.
Not Lawson.
A woman.
Dominic’s expression shifted.
“Interesting.”
The voice continued.
“You have something that belongs to my employer.”
Dominic remained behind the wall beside the door.
“Your employer should have sent a letter.”
“We did.”
She sounded amused.
“You ignored it.”
Abigail recognized the reference to the sniper.
Dominic raised his voice.
“You aimed at my fiancée.”
“No.”
The woman answered.
“We demonstrated access.”
Her tone became colder.
“If we wanted Abigail Weston dead, you would currently be arranging a funeral.”
Dominic’s face transformed.
Tommy whispered.
“Boss.”
Dominic knew.
Anger was exactly what they wanted.
He forced it downward.
“What do you want?”
“The flash drive.”
“Come inside.”
“I prefer breathing.”
Dominic glanced toward Tommy.
“Name.”
The woman outside laughed.
“Evelyn March.”
Tommy’s eyes widened slightly.
Dominic noticed.
“You know her?”
“Former military intelligence.”
Tommy whispered.
“Private contractor now. Very expensive.”
Evelyn spoke again.
“Mr. Russo, I would prefer not to kill anyone tonight.”
“Your men already disabled mine.”
“Sedative darts.”
A pause.
“Check them after we leave.”
Dominic’s suspicion deepened.
Professionals.
Not Costa street soldiers.
“Who hired you?”
“You know I cannot answer.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
Dominic gestured toward Abigail.
Rear door.
Tommy understood.
They began moving quietly.
Evelyn’s voice followed.
“Leo Russo attempted the same thing.”
Dominic stopped.
Every muscle inside his body became still.
“What did you say?”
“He refused to surrender the ledger.”
Evelyn sounded closer.
“We warned him.”
Dominic moved toward the door.
Abigail caught his arm.
“Dominic.”
His eyes burned.
“Were you involved in the bombing?”
Silence.
Then:
“No.”
Evelyn’s voice had lost its amusement.
“My team was hired afterward to locate what he moved.”
Dominic’s breathing became heavy.
“By whom?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“You can.”
“Not while they hold insurance.”
Dominic’s anger became focused.
“What insurance?”
Another pause.
Then Evelyn said something none of them expected.
“My daughter.”
The air changed.
Abigail looked toward Dominic.
Evelyn continued.
“She is 19.”
Her voice remained professional, but something underneath it had cracked.
“My employer knows where she lives.”
Dominic lowered the gun by an inch.
“They forced you.”
“No one forces me.”
Evelyn replied.
“I made a choice.”
A bitter breath.
“You understand choices involving people we love.”
Dominic stared at the door.
Yes.
He did.
Too well.
“What happens if I give you the drive?”
“You lose your best advantage.”
“And if I do not?”
“My daughter disappears.”
Evelyn’s voice hardened again.
“And approximately 40 armed professionals will eventually come for Abigail.”
Dominic felt her hand against his arm.
“Who is powerful enough to threaten you?”
Abigail asked.
Evelyn heard her.
“Someone who has spent 20 years ensuring people like Dominic believe they are the most dangerous men in the room.”
Dominic absorbed the sentence.
“The Consortium.”
Silence confirmed it.
Abigail looked at him.
Evelyn spoke.
“You have 1 minute.”
Dominic examined the flash drive.
Leo had died protecting it.
Giving it away felt like betraying him.
Keeping it would make every person beside Dominic a target.
Then Dominic remembered the note.
The ledger is not money.
It is ownership.
The key opens the first door.
The drive opens the second.
The third requires blood.
Maybe the flash drive was only part of the puzzle.
He made a decision.
“Evelyn.”
“Yes?”
“You receive the drive.”
Tommy stared at him.
“But not tonight.”
Gun safeties clicked outside.
Dominic continued.
“You work for me first.”
A humorless laugh answered.
“You do not have enough money.”
“I have something more useful.”
“What?”
“War.”
Dominic stepped into view.
Tommy swore under his breath.
Abigail followed immediately despite his attempt to stop her.
Approximately 12 figures surrounded the boathouse.
Black winter tactical equipment.
Night-vision optics.
Suppressors.
No visible insignia.
At the center stood Evelyn March.
She was approximately 45.
Blonde hair cut short.
A pale scar crossed her left eyebrow.
Her rifle remained lowered but ready.
Dominic held the flash drive between 2 fingers.
“If the Consortium has your daughter, then you already know what eventually happens.”
Evelyn’s expression stayed blank.
“They use her until you become inconvenient.”
Dominic continued.
“Then they kill both of you.”
“You think I have not considered that?”
“I think you lack an army.”
His cane settled into the snow.
“I possess one.”
Evelyn looked toward Abigail.
“And your weakness stands beside you.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
Abigail surprised everyone by answering.
“No.”
She raised her pistol slightly.
“I am the reason he stopped being weak.”
Evelyn studied her.
Something almost like respect entered the older woman’s face.
Dominic extended the drive.
“You help me understand what Leo found.”
He closed his fingers around it before Evelyn could take it.
“You help me identify who killed him.”
His voice became colder.
“You help me recover your daughter.”
Evelyn looked toward the package.
“And then?”
“Then I give you the drive.”
“You expect trust?”
“No.”
Dominic’s mouth hardened.
“I expect mutual hatred to be sufficient.”
Snow moved between them.
No one lowered a weapon.
Finally, Evelyn raised one gloved hand.
Her team slowly lowered their rifles.
“Forty-eight hours.”
She said.
“You get 48 hours of my cooperation.”
Dominic nodded.
“Enough.”
She looked toward him.
“Do not be so certain.”
Evelyn approached.
She stopped several feet away.
“The Consortium has existed longer than your leadership.”
Her gaze became severe.
“Police commissioners, judges, union presidents, bankers, senators, CEOs.”
Abigail’s stomach tightened.
Evelyn continued.
“Your father did not build a criminal alliance.”
She looked toward the flash drive.
“He built a government beneath the government.”
Dominic felt the weight of Leo’s note inside his pocket.
“And someone inherited it.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Evelyn’s mouth tightened.
“The man who ordered your death 5 years ago.”
Dominic’s hand closed around the cane.
“Name him.”
Evelyn looked directly into his eyes.
“Your uncle.”
Dominic did not move.
“My father had no brother.”
May you like
Evelyn’s answer came quietly.
“Not one he acknowledged.”
