Chapter 7 - The Shipping Yard
The freezing night air whipped violently off the dark water of the South Side shipping docks.
A convoy of four heavily armored black SUVs aggressively tore through the rusted chain-link gates, their blinding LED headlights cutting through the pitch-black darkness. The vehicles screeched to a halt in the center of an abandoned, decaying warehouse sector.
Vincent stepped out of the lead vehicle. The terrifying, untouchable billionaire didn't look like a CEO anymore. The intricate tattoos on his neck and hands seemed to darken in the shadows. He looked like the absolute devil himself.
He racked the slide of a heavy, suppressed tactical pistol.
"Sweep every building," Vincent commanded his heavily armed security team. "Leave no one standing."
The tactical team moved with blinding, flawless precision. They didn't shout. They didn't announce their presence. They breached the massive rusted doors of the primary warehouse.
Inside, three armed mercenaries hired by Isabella were sitting around a cheap folding table, playing cards and drinking cheap beer. They never even had time to reach for their weapons.
Vincent’s men neutralized them instantly with terrifying, non-lethal efficiency, dropping the mercenaries to the concrete floor with precise physical strikes and heavy restraints.
Vincent walked slowly past the groaning men, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the filthy concrete floor. His heart was hammering violently against his ribs.
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At the very back of the warehouse, behind a heavy steel security door, he found it.
👉 Vincent shot the heavy padlock off the door, completely unprepared for the devastating sight waiting for him inside.
