Chapter 7 - Lily's DrawingAt 6:42 that evening, a package arrived at Vescari Tower.
There was no return address.
Inside lay Lily's red mitten, a photograph of Isabel tied to a chair, and a folded sheet of paper.
I opened it.
The handwriting was crooked, childish, and unmistakable.
Mr. Dominic, please find Mommy. I tried to be brave. I am sorry about your drawing.
For several seconds, the room disappeared around me.
Then I turned the paper over.
A second message had been written in black ink.
MIDNIGHT. THE OLD UNION STATION. COME ALONE.
Vincent read it twice.
“It's a trap.”
“Obviously.”
“You can't go alone.”
“I won't.”
He stared at me.
“You just said you're going alone.”
“I said Carlo thinks I will.”
I summoned three men I trusted, instructed them to prepare an unmarked vehicle, and contacted a federal investigator whose career had nearly been destroyed by the same network mentioned in Marco's ledger.
Her name was Agent Rebecca Shaw.
She had pursued corruption cases in Chicago for twelve years, and I had spent most of that time making her job difficult.
The first time we'd met, she had threatened to arrest me during a charity gala.
The second time, she'd saved my life by warning me that a rival organization had planted a bomb beneath my car.
We had never become friends.
But we had reached an arrangement based on a simple understanding: she wanted evidence, and I wanted my enemies removed from the board.
When I called her, she answered on the second ring.
“If you're calling to confess to something, Dominic, I need to warn you that I record everything.”
“Then record this. Carlo Bellandi has a network of corrupt officials, and I have the documents to prove it.”
Silence.
“How much evidence?”
“Enough to ruin several careers.”
“And how much blood have you spilled to get it?”
“Less than I intend to if you don't help me retrieve a child.”
Rebecca exhaled sharply.
“Send me the documents. I'll arrange a team.”
“You'll arrange nothing until I know Lily is safe.”
“That's not how this works.”
“Tonight, it is.”
She paused.
“Union Station. Midnight?”
“Yes.”
“If this is a trap, I will arrest you before I arrest anyone else.”
“Get in line.”
I ended the call.
At 11:30 p.m., I stood inside the abandoned station, beneath a row of broken lights. Rain tapped against the roof. Old advertisements peeled from the walls, and weeds grew through cracks in the concrete.
Vincent watched the entrances through a concealed earpiece.
“Movement east side,” he whispered.
“How many?”
“Four. Possibly five.”
I stepped toward the center of the hall.
A figure emerged from behind a pillar.
Carlo.
He wore a charcoal suit and a black overcoat, looking perfectly composed beneath the dim lighting.
“Dominic,” he said. “You've aged.”
“You've become predictable.”
He smiled.
“Where's the ledger?”
“Where's Isabel?”
“Safe.”
“Your definition of safe usually involves a locked room.”
His smile disappeared.
“You always did mistake sentiment for intelligence.”
“And you always mistook patience for weakness.”
Carlo glanced toward the corridor behind him.
“Bring out the girl.”
A man appeared, holding Lily by the shoulder.
Her cheeks were wet, but she wasn't crying. She looked at me with enormous eyes, then glanced at the pocket of my coat.
The pocket containing her drawing.
I raised my empty hands.
“Let her go.”
“First, the ledger.”
I reached into my coat.
But instead of the book, I pulled out Lily's original drawing.
Carlo stared at it.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“She made it for me.”
“Then burn it when you get home.”
“No.”
For the first time, irritation cracked his composure.
I held up the drawing.
“She gave me something worth more than your entire empire. I told her I'd keep it forever.”
Carlo's expression hardened.
“You really have become a sentimental old man.”
“Maybe.”
I lowered the paper.
“But I never promised you anything.”
At that moment, the station's lights snapped on.
Rebecca Shaw's voice rang through the building.
“Federal agents! Nobody move!”
The men surrounding Carlo reached for their weapons.
Vincent emerged from the shadows, covering the man holding Lily.
Carlo's face twisted with fury.
He shoved the nearest guard toward the agents and ran for the eastern exit.
I chased him.
We burst onto the rain-soaked platform just as a train thundered past on the tracks below.
Carlo scrambled down a flight of steps.
I caught his coat and dragged him backward.
He turned, swinging at my face. His fist caught my cheekbone, sending me against the railing.
“You should have stayed out of this!” he shouted.
“You killed my brother.”
“And he was too weak to understand what this city requires!”
I hit him once.
He staggered.
I raised my fist again.
Then I heard a small voice behind me.
“Mr. Dominic?”
Lily stood at the top of the stairs beside Vincent.
Her mitten was missing.
She was watching me with frightened eyes.
I looked at Carlo.
For eleven years, I had imagined this moment in a thousand different ways.
In every version, I killed him.
Instead, I lowered my fist.
Rebecca and two agents rushed forward, securing Carlo's hands behind his back.
He began laughing as they dragged him away.
“You think you've won?” he called. “You have no idea who owns this city!”
I watched him disappear into the darkness.
Then Lily ran toward me.
I knelt, and she threw her arms around my neck.
“You came,” she whispered.
I held her carefully.
“I promised.”
She pulled back and studied my bruised face.
“Mommy says promises are important.”
“She sounds like a very wise woman.”
Lily nodded solemnly.
Then she reached into her pocket and handed me a small piece of paper.
“There's something else.”
I unfolded it.
May you like
Three words had been written in a child's uneven handwriting.
NADIA IS ALIVE.
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