Chapter 7 - The Chicago Call
Dominic took the glowing smartphone from his bodyguard. He put it on speakerphone, holding it directly between us so I could hear every single word.
The cinematic tension in the luxury department store was absolutely suffocating.
"Speak," Dominic commanded.
"Mr. Moretti," a rough voice echoed from the phone. "We found Marcus Vance. He isn't working a low-wage job. He's a mid-level manager at a logistics firm downtown. He bought a four-hundred-thousand-dollar townhouse last year. He's married to a local socialite. They just bought a boat."
The horrific, apocalyptic reality crashed down on me with the kinetic force of a freight train.
Marcus hadn't failed to find work. He hadn't been struggling. He had intentionally, maliciously abandoned his own daughter to live a wealthy, luxurious life with another woman, completely ignoring the fact that we were literally freezing in a tiny apartment.
I physically staggered backward, my knees buckling as the profound, suffocating betrayal hijacked my nervous system. Dominic immediately reached out, his strong, tattooed hand gripping my arm to keep me from collapsing onto the marble floor.
"He... he has a boat?" I choked out, sobbing in sheer agony. "Rosie drew shoes on a bus ticket because she was freezing, and he has a boat?"
Dominic’s eyes turned pitch black. The quiet, terrifying wrath of the mafia boss was fully awakened.
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"Not anymore," Dominic whispered.
👉 Dominic spoke directly into the phone, delivering a ruthless, lethal sentence that would completely vaporize my ex-husband's life.
