Chapter 10 - The Trap Beneath Chicago
Victor Shaw looked older than Desmond remembered.
Not weak.
Just tired in the particular way men looked after spending years expecting a door to open behind them.
Rourke remained standing.
“You’re dead.”
Victor poured himself water.
“Disappointing, isn’t it?”
Nathan’s face had become unreadable.
Beatrice sat slowly.
Desmond stared at the man who had taught him his first rules of power.
Never enter a room without knowing every exit.
Never threaten when silence will work.
Never give an enemy information you can make him purchase.
Victor had taught him everything except how to recognize betrayal.
“Where have you been?” Desmond asked.
“Waiting.”
“For?”
“This.”
Victor looked around the table.
“All of you in one room.”
Rourke’s hand moved.
Marco immediately shifted position.
Victor smiled.
“If you wanted me dead, Thomas, you should have checked the body.”
Rourke’s jaw tightened.
“What happened?” Beatrice asked.
Victor looked at her.
“You’re Patrick’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“He talked about you constantly.”
Her chest tightened.
“You knew my father?”
“Well.”
“Did you betray him?”
Victor’s expression changed.
“Yes.”
The direct answer struck harder than denial would have.
“Why?”
“Because I was a coward.”
Silence.
Victor looked at Desmond.
“And because I believed I could control the Rourkes from inside.”
“You placed Nathan near me.”
“Yes.”
Desmond’s voice lowered.
“You knew who he was.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“At first because he was useful.”
Nathan laughed softly.
“Finally.”
Victor ignored him.
“Later because he became dangerous.”
“You trained him.”
“I underestimated him.”
Desmond looked toward Rourke.
“You all underestimated someone tonight.”
Beatrice.
Rourke noticed the glance.
“Sentimental weakness.”
Victor smiled.
“No. That’s where you’re wrong.”
He looked toward Beatrice.
“She’s the only person at this table who doesn’t want the empire.”
Beatrice frowned.
“I want answers.”
“Exactly.”
Victor leaned forward.
“Every man here has spent decades fighting for control.”
“Not Evan,” she said.
“Your brother spent ten years building Rourke’s systems.”
Evan’s face tightened from his position near the wall.
Victor continued.
“Power changes objectives. You begin wanting safety. Then money. Then influence. Eventually control becomes more important than the reason you wanted it.”
Beatrice looked at Desmond.
He noticed.
Victor did too.
“But you,” Victor said to her, “still remember the reason.”
“What reason?”
“People.”
The room became quiet.
Victor looked at Desmond.
“Patrick Gallagher saved your life.”
Desmond frowned.
“When?”
“Twice.”
Beatrice leaned forward.
“Explain.”
“The first time, he discovered Michael Rourke intended to use your trucking company for a federal sting.”
Rourke’s father.
Desmond’s eyes narrowed.
“That was Patrick?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you found it.”
“I took credit.”
Desmond stared at Victor.
Of course.
Even memories were being rewritten tonight.
“And the second time?”
Victor looked at Beatrice.
“He found evidence Nicholas Varen was entering your organization.”
Nathan smiled faintly.
“I wasn’t Nathan yet.”
“Patrick wanted to warn Desmond.”
Beatrice’s pulse quickened.
“What stopped him?”
Victor looked ashamed.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Nicholas had evidence implicating me.”
Her eyes hardened.
“What evidence?”
“I had been moving money for Michael Rourke.”
“So you sacrificed my father.”
Victor swallowed.
“I delayed him.”
“How long?”
“Two days.”
“What happened during those two days?”
Victor did not answer.
Beatrice already knew.
Her father died.
She stood.
Desmond stood too.
Victor remained seated.
“I didn’t kill Patrick.”
“You made sure he couldn’t reach Desmond.”
“Yes.”
“Then you helped.”
“Yes.”
The room blurred around her.
For years, she had imagined her father’s death as random tragedy.
Now it had hands.
Names.
Decisions.
Victor’s.
Nathan’s.
Rourke’s.
Perhaps others.
She wanted to scream.
Instead she asked, “Who actually killed him?”
Nathan’s expression changed.
Victor turned toward him.
Rourke smiled.
And Beatrice understood.
“Nathan.”
He remained silent.
“Nicholas.”
His eyes hardened.
“It was supposed to scare him.”
“You poisoned him?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I replaced medication.”
Her knees nearly failed.
Desmond caught her arm.
This time she did not pull away.
Nathan continued.
“He had a heart condition.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you changed his medication.”
“Yes.”
The simplicity of the answer was monstrous.
Evan lunged.
Marco caught him.
“Let me go!”
Beatrice turned.
“Evan.”
Her brother struggled.
“He killed Dad!”
“I know.”
“Then let me—”
“No.”
Her voice cut through the room.
Evan stopped.
She looked at Nathan.
“You want me angry.”
Nathan frowned.
“You want all of us angry because angry people make mistakes.”
Victor smiled faintly.
Patrick’s daughter indeed.
Beatrice wiped her eyes.
“You won’t get it.”
Nathan’s confidence slipped.
Rourke stepped back from the table.
“This conversation is over.”
Victor laughed.
“No, Thomas. It’s finally beginning.”
He removed a phone.
Pressed one button.
Screens around the abandoned dining room illuminated.
Bank records.
Audio recordings.
Videos.
Rourke stared.
Victor smiled.
“You thought I survived by hiding?”
Nathan went pale.
“What did you do?”
“I collected insurance.”
For twenty-one months, Victor had gathered evidence from every side.
Proof of Rourke’s operations.
Proof of Nathan’s theft.
Proof of corruption inside several city offices.
And proof that some of Desmond’s old businesses had been used without his knowledge.
Not innocence.
But separation.
Enough to change the balance.
“Why now?” Desmond asked.
Victor looked at him.
“Because I’m dying.”
Beatrice’s anger paused.
Victor tapped his chest.
“Cancer.”
“How long?”
“Maybe two months.”
He looked toward Rourke.
“I decided not to spend them hiding.”
Rourke’s face became cold.
“You won’t spend them anywhere if we don’t leave this building.”
Victor smiled.
“That’s another problem.”
“What?”
“I invited company.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Rourke’s guards reacted.
Nathan rushed toward a side door.
Locked.
Every exit locked simultaneously.
Marco looked at Victor.
“What did you do?”
“Automated security.”
Rourke stood.
“You trapped us.”
“Yes.”
“With police coming?”
“Not police.”
The sirens stopped outside.
Heavy footsteps entered the lobby below.
Victor’s smile faded.
“Federal agents.”
Nathan swore.
Desmond looked at Beatrice.
“Back exit?”
Victor shook his head.
“All sealed.”
Rourke reached beneath his jacket.
Desmond moved.
But before anyone could act, the lights died.
Darkness.
A gunshot cracked somewhere near the door.
Glass shattered.
Beatrice felt Desmond grab her and pull her down behind the table.
Shouts exploded around them.
Emergency lights flashed red.
“Stay down,” Desmond said.
“What about Evan?”
“Marco has him.”
Another crash.
Then Victor shouted something Beatrice couldn’t hear.
A service door suddenly opened.
Cold air rushed in.
Desmond saw it.
“Move.”
They ran.
Beatrice, Desmond, Marco, Evan and Daniel disappeared into a service corridor beneath the hotel.
Above them, federal agents entered the ballroom.
Behind them came footsteps.
Someone was following.
They reached an underground utility tunnel.
Marco turned.
“Go.”
Desmond pushed Beatrice ahead.
Then a voice echoed behind them.
“Desmond.”
He stopped.
Nathan stood twenty yards away.
Alone.
Holding a phone.
Not a weapon.
“Run if you want.”
Desmond stared.
Nathan lifted the phone.
“I already uploaded everything.”
“What?”
Nathan smiled.
“Every criminal account connected to Hayes.”
Beatrice went cold.
“Where?”
Nathan’s smile widened.
“To the federal task force upstairs.”
Desmond’s empire was no longer merely threatened.
It had been exposed.
May you like
And by sunrise, every legitimate company he owned could collapse with it.
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