Chapter 19 - The Final Confrontation at Pier 42
The midnight air off the Hudson River was bitter and biting, carrying the sharp scent of salt, oil, and wet concrete. Pier 42 was completely abandoned, its cavernous corrugated metal warehouses rising like gothic cathedrals against the ink-black expanse of the water. I stepped out of my car, wearing a dark trench coat, my hand resting firmly on the polished grip of the legal firearm Marcus had insisted I carry. The fog rolled in heavy and thick, swallowing the distant lights of the city and leaving only the harsh, flickering amber glow of a single overhead sodium lamp. "I knew you’d come," a voice echoed from the shadows near the rusted loading docks. Jonathan stepped into the light, leaning heavily on an ebony cane with a silver wolf’s head handle. His eyes gleamed with a mix of madness and paternal pride. "You have your husband's stubborn spine, but you lack his weakness." I kept my distance, my weapon raised and leveled squarely at his chest. "It ends tonight, Jonathan. Your empire is gone, your accounts are seized, and federal agents are surrounding this entire sector." He chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Fed agents? My dear girl, do you really think I’d invite you here without insurance?" From the darkness behind the stacked shipping containers, half a dozen armed operatives stepped forward, their silenced weapons raising in unison to surround me.
