Chapter 3 - The Gathering StormThe 4th Street warehouse smelled of old timber, saltwater, and fear.
Hanging industrial work lights cast harsh, yellow pools of illumination across the concrete floor, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the damp air. In the center of the room, tied securely to two heavy wooden chairs, sat Victor Vance and Frank Doyle.
Victor was sweating through his expensive silk shirt, his face bruised from Teddy's initial greeting. Frank, on the other hand, was sobbing, his nose swollen and bleeding onto his collar.
"Lucas! Come on, man, this is insane!" Victor whined as heavy footsteps echoed from the loading dock entrance. "We're partners! We share the shipping lanes! You can't snatch me off the street over some punk waitress!"
The heavy steel door slid open.
Lucas stepped into the light, flanked by Teddy and four armed enforcers. He wore his charcoal suit, his jacket buttoned, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. He looked like an executive arriving for a routine board meeting, except for the absolute, arctic stillness in his eyes.
He walked up to Frank Doyle first.
Frank cowered, pulling his head down between his shoulders. "Mr. Hale... I swear, I didn't know she meant that much to you! If I knew she was your—your girl—"
Crack.
Lucas's fist connected with Frank's jaw with the precision of a piston. Frank slumped sideways in the chair, stars dancing in his vision, blood spraying from his lip.
"She's not my 'girl,'" Lucas said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he shook out his knuckles. "She's an employee of the Velvet Tide. Which means she answers to me. And more importantly... she is under my personal protection."
Victor swallowed hard, trying to puff out his chest despite the ropes binding him. "You're going to start a civil war in the syndicate over a waitress, Lucas? The board isn't going to like this. The union bosses aren't going to like this. You're losing your edge."
Lucas turned slowly, walking over to Victor until he was standing inches away. He leaned down, resting his forearms on the back of Victor's chair.
"Let's talk about the union bosses, Victor," Lucas murmured softly. "Let's talk about the scaffolding collapse at Pier 14 six months ago. The one where three men were injured and one nearly lost his legs."
Victor's eyes flicked sideways. "That was a structural accident. OSHA investigated—"
"OSHA was paid off by a shell company registered out of the Cayman Islands," Lucas interrupted, pulling a manila folder from Teddy's outstretched hand and tossing it onto Victor's lap. "A shell company that traces directly back to your primary Swiss bank account, Victor."
Victor's face went sheet-white. "I... I don't know what that is. That's forged."
"Is it?" Lucas smiled, a cold, humorless expression that didn't reach his eyes. "Because I had my forensic accountants audit your entire division this afternoon. You skimmed three million dollars from the safety upgrade budget to fund your private real-estate ventures in Miami. And in doing so, you crippled an innocent kid named Leo Beckett."
Frank groaned from the adjacent chair, spitting blood. "Wait... Beckett? You're doing all this over the Beckett kid?"
"I'm doing it," Lucas said, straightening up and buttoning his jacket, "because I have a very long memory for people who act like human lives are disposable."
Teddy stepped forward, holding a heavy ledger and a digital tablet. "Boss, the asset seizure is complete. We've frozen all of Victor's maritime holdings, transferred control of the Pier 14 contracts to our internal trust, and set up a permanent, un-cancellable medical fund for Leo Beckett, covering all past, present, and future treatments, plus a full scholarship."
Victor thrashed against his bonds. "You can't do that! That's my empire! You're breaking the code!"
"The code," Lucas said, turning his back on them as he walked toward the exit, "was written by men who thought they were gods. And I'm tired of playing god."
May you like
He paused at the heavy metal door, looking back over his shoulder.
"Teddy, hand them over to the federal authorities on the tax evasion charges. And make sure Frank finds out what it's like to work a double shift without a chair."
