Chapter 3 - The Asset and the ArchitectBy 7:00 AM, Sophie was back in her Huron Street apartment.
A private contractor hired by Matteo had already replaced her kicked-in door frame with a reinforced steel jamb and an electronic deadbolt system that belonged in a bank vault. The floor had been swept, the rain had stopped, and a fresh bouquet of white lilies sat on her kitchen island beside a cup of artisan coffee from the cafe down the street.
Attached to the vase was a simple card: For the coffee. — M.R.
Sophie stood in her kitchen, holding the card, her heart performing a strange, rhythmic flutter that had nothing to do with panic or risk assessment.
She spent the morning trying to work from home, but her actuarial software looked dull, flat, and hollow. The spreadsheets that usually gave her a sense of order felt insignificant compared to the dark, high-stakes chess match she had glimpsed inside the Fulton Market warehouse.
At 2:00 PM, her phone chimed. An unknown, encrypted number.
She answered. “Gallagher.”
“Viktor Kase’s men just left your sister’s last known address in Pilsen,” Matteo’s smooth voice vibrated through the receiver. “They found her empty bags. They know she’s gone.”
Sophie held the phone tighter. “And?”
“And three dark sedans are currently heading north toward the Loop. Toward your office building on Michigan Avenue.”
Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m at home.”
“I know,” Matteo said softly. “I have two men parked at your curb. But Kase doesn't know you’re home. He thinks you’re at work. He’s planning to snatch you from the lobby to use as leverage against me.”
“He thinks I’m the leverage,” Sophie said, her analytical brain instantly spinning into overdrive. “He thinks if he holds me, you’ll surrender the West Loop shipping docks to get the Moretti bonds back.”
“Yes,” Matteo said. “Which presents us with a very interesting opportunity.”
Sophie walked to her living room window, pulling back the blind slightly. Below on the street, a sleek black SUV sat idling near the hydrants, completely invisible to the average passerby, but obvious to anyone who knew what to look for.
“You want to use me as bait,” Sophie stated, her tone sharp.
“I want to offer you a contract,” Matteo corrected smoothly. “Come to my office in the Loop. Help me execute the audit on Kase’s holding companies before he reaches your office. In exchange, I will personally guarantee your sister’s safe passage out of the country, erase your name from every Moretti ledger, and pay off your apartment’s mortgage in full.”
Sophie stared out at the gray Chicago skyline.
She could refuse. She could call the FBI, enter witness protection, give up her job, her home, her life, and spend the rest of her days looking over her shoulder for Viktor Kase’s hitmen.
Or she could align herself with the man who held the city in his grip.
“My mortgage is four hundred and twenty thousand dollars,” Sophie said coldly.
“Consider it paid by three o'clock,” Matteo replied without a second's hesitation.
Twenty minutes later, Sophie stepped out of her apartment building into the crisp afternoon air. The door of the black SUV opened, and Leo the Brick stepped out, holding an umbrella over her head with absurd, rigid formality.
“Miss Gallagher,” Leo said, his rough voice surprisingly respectful. “The boss is waiting.”
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“Did you bring the dark roast, Leo?” Sophie asked as she stepped into the leather interior.
“Two bags, ma’am,” Leo replied, shutting the door. “In the back.”
