Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Tenement
Midnight in Cicero was a cruel affair. The wind howled off Lake Michigan, carrying freezing sleet that coated the streets in a treacherous layer of black ice.
Adrian had left his sleek, bulletproof Mercedes parked three blocks away, choosing instead to drive his father’s old, dented black Lincoln—a nondescript vehicle that blended seamlessly into the decaying landscape of the industrial district. He sat behind the wheel with the engine idling, his eyes fixed on the crumbling, five-story redbrick tenement building across the street.
The building looked like a hollowed-out tooth against the bruised night sky. Most of the windows were dark, patched with cardboard or plastic sheeting. This was where Sofia and Emma lived when they weren't sequestered in the Moretti estate’s servant quarters—though Sofia still maintained the lease, terrified that losing the apartment would mean losing any anchor to her dead husband’s memory.
At exactly eleven forty-seven, a small figure emerged from the biting sleet and trudged toward the rusted iron gate of the tenement.
Adrian’s breath hitched. It was Emma.
He checked his watch, disbelief warring with cold fury. Eleven forty-seven at night. What was a three-year-old child doing out on the freezing streets of Cicero at midnight?
He shoved the door open, ignoring the freezing blast of air, and stepped out into the sleet. Moving like a shadow, keeping deep within the architectural dead zones of the decaying street, he followed her.
Emma climbed the five flights of concrete stairs inside the tenement completely alone. Her small red boots clacked rhythmically against the broken steps—clack, clack, clack—each step a testament to a survival instinct far beyond her years.
Adrian crept up the stairwell behind her, keeping two landings back, his heart hammering against his ribs in a way it hadn't since the night his own daughter was stolen from him. He had told himself he was merely ensuring she reached home safely. He was the head of a ruthless syndicate; he didn't care about maids or their children. It was a professional inspection of perimeter security, nothing more.
When Emma reached the fifth floor, she stopped in front of apartment 5B. The door was warped, the frame splintered from an old break-in, and it stood slightly ajar, a sliver of yellow, flickering candlelight spilling out into the dark, moldy hallway.
May you like
Emma pushed the door open with her shoulder and stepped inside.
Adrian moved silently to the threshold. He peered through the cracked, unlatched door, and what he saw next shattered the ruthless crime boss's frozen heart into dust.
