Chapter 6 - Echoes in Concrete
The concrete labyrinth of the subterranean garage smelled of damp mold and idling diesel. Water dripped in steady, rhythmic beats from exposed pipes overhead, splashing into oily puddles that reflected the flickering fluorescent tubes.
Sal moved along the perimeter columns, his footwork completely silent despite his bulk. He kept his back to the concrete pillars, his weapon held at the low-ready position.
""You're getting slow, Salvatore,"" an echoing voice drifted through the darkness, bouncing off the concrete ceiling. ""Twenty years ago, you would have dropped me on the rooftop before I finished that cigarette.""
Sal didn't respond. He didn't waste breath on banter. He tracked the acoustic resonance, identifying the voice originating from behind a row of concrete support pillars near bay 4B.
""I have to hand it to you,"" Victor Cole continued, footsteps echoing deliberately. ""Convincing the world you had gone soft... playing the retired real estate mogul while tucking your little princess away in gated suburbs. It was brilliant. But you made one fatal error, old friend.""
Sal closed the distance, inch by inch, sliding between two parked SUVs.
""You let her marry an idiot,"" Victor chuckled, the sound grating like sandpaper. ""Julian Vance has three offshore accounts funded by my consortium. He thought he was saving his tech startup. He never realized he was mortgaging your family's future.""
Sal stepped around pillar 4B, weapon raised.
Standing thirty feet away, standing beside an idling armored Suburban with tinted windows, was Victor. His face was weathered, a long, ragged scar running from his ear down through his jawline—the souvenir Sal had left him the night their empire split in two.
""You should have stayed in the Atlantic, Victor,"" Sal said, his voice flat, devoid of rage, chilling in its finality.
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""And miss your family reunion?"" Victor smiled, spreading his arms wide. ""I don't think so. But here's the kicker, Sal. I’m not here to kill you. Killing you is too easy. I’m here to take everything you built, piece by piece, starting with the child.""
From behind the Suburban, four heavily armed mercenaries emerged, their laser optics painting red dots across Sal’s chest.
