Chapter 5 - The Glass and the SteelThe Halsted warehouse was surrounded by fire and smoke when the Romano convoy arrived.
Rain lashed against the windshields as automatic gunfire echoed across the deserted industrial avenue. Viktor Kase’s men had barricaded the heavy iron gates, firing wildly from the upper windows of the three-story brick building.
“Stay in the armored van!” Marco, Matteo’s driver, ordered as the firefight erupted.
Matteo drew his weapon, looking back at Sophie in the rear seat. “Keep the engine running, Marco. If anything goes wrong, take her out of the city.”
“Matteo,” Sophie called out, grabbing his sleeve before he could step into the rain.
He turned, his face framed by the flashing blue lights of distant police sirens and the orange glow of burning pallets.
“Be precise,” she said simply.
Matteo smiled—a fierce, razor-sharp grin—and kissed her hard on the lips. It was brief, intense, and tasted of rain and copper.
“Always,” he said, and stepped out into the storm.
For fifteen agonizing minutes, Sophie sat in the back of the armored vehicle, watching the battle unfold through the reinforced glass windows.
Matteo moved like a force of nature. Flanked by Leo and his inner circle, he advanced through the rain, his gunfire precise and devastating. Kase’s mercenaries, disorganized and terrified by the sudden collapse of their financial network, began surrendering or fleeing into the dark alleys along the river.
Then, high above on the third-floor catwalk of the warehouse, a figure appeared through the smoke.
Viktor Kase.
He was dragging a heavy steel firebox toward the ledge—the box holding the Moretti bearer bonds and his remaining liquid assets. He was holding a flare in his left hand, ready to toss it into the open box and destroy the evidence before the Romano crew could breach the floor.
“He’s going to burn them!” Marco yelled from the driver's seat.
Sophie didn't wait.
She slapped the door release button, ignored Marco’s frantic shouts, and stepped straight out into the pouring rain.
She ran toward the open side entrance of the warehouse, her wet leather shoes splashing through oil slicked puddles. She knew the layout of these old meatpacking structures from her industrial property audits—she knew there was an internal fire ladder behind the main boiler room that bypassed the central catwalk.
She scrambled up the iron rungs of the emergency ladder, her hands slipping against the cold wet metal, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.
She reached the third-floor gantry just as Viktor Kase struck the flare against his boot.
“Kase!” Sophie yelled, her voice cutting through the roar of the fire below.
The scarred Russian turned in surprise, his eyes widening as he saw a woman in a dark sweater standing at the edge of the gantry, soaked in rain, holding a heavy iron fire extinguisher she had pulled from the wall.
“Chloe?” Kase spat, raising his handgun. “You little bitch—”
“I’m the actuary,” Sophie said coldly.
She slammed the heavy brass nozzle of the fire extinguisher directly into the release valve, blasting a blinding, high-pressure cloud of white carbon dioxide powder straight into Kase’s face.
Kase screamed, choked, and stumbled backward over the railing, dropping the flare onto the concrete floor three feet from the open firebox.
Sophie lunged forward, stomping her boot down hard onto the lit flare, extinguishing the flame seconds before it touched the paper certificates inside the steel chest.
Kase scrambled back onto his feet, wiping the white powder from his eyes, his face twisted in psychotic rage. He raised his gun, pointing it directly at Sophie’s chest from three feet away.
“Die, bitch,” Kase growled.
A single, sharp gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
Kase’s eyes went wide. A small, neat hole appeared in the center of his forehead. He collapsed backward over the railing, falling thirty feet to the concrete floor below.
Sophie turned around, breathing heavily.
Standing at the far end of the gantry, his gun still smoking in his hand, his coat soaked with rain and blood, was Matteo Romano.
He dropped his weapon, rushed across the catwalk, and pulled Sophie violently into his arms. He held her so tight she could barely breathe, his heart thudding furiously against her chest.
“You absolute fool,” Matteo rasped into her wet hair, his voice shaking with a terror he had never felt in his entire life. “You almost got yourself killed!”
“The bonds... are safe,” Sophie managed to say, leaning her forehead against his chest, her hands clutching his wet shirt.
May you like
Matteo pulled back, looking down at her face, wiping the cold rain from her cheeks with his trembling thumb.
“To hell with the bonds,” Matteo whispered fiercely. “You’re safe.”
