Chapter 3 - THE HOUSE WITH NO WINDOWSThe SUV disappeared beneath an underground garage.
The doors shut behind them.
Tessa was taken into a building with no sign, no name, and no visible windows.
A fortress.
Salvatore walked ahead.
She followed.
Her mind was still trapped in the sentence he had given her.
Your parents were murdered.
She wanted to believe he was lying.
It would have been easier.
But something about his face told her otherwise.
He showed her a room.
“You'll stay here.”
“No.”
“Tessa.”
“I don't want a room. I want answers.”
“You're exhausted.”
“I don't care.”
She stepped closer.
“Who killed my parents?”
Salvatore looked at her.
“I don't know.”
“You just said they were murdered.”
“I know who ordered it.”
“Who?”
He hesitated.
Then:
“Victor Hale.”
The name meant nothing to her.
“Who is Victor Hale?”
Salvatore's expression darkened.
“The only man in Chicago I was never able to kill.”
Tessa folded her arms.
“So you're telling me the city thinks you're a monster, but there's someone worse than you?”
“Yes.”
“And he knows me?”
Salvatore nodded.
“He has known about you since you were seventeen.”
Tessa's stomach tightened.
“Why?”
Salvatore didn't answer.
She noticed something.
His left hand trembled.
Just slightly.
She stared.
“You're hurt.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“It's nothing.”
He tried to walk past.
Tessa grabbed his sleeve.
He stopped.
She pointed at his side.
Blood had soaked through his shirt.
“You were shot.”
“I'll live.”
“You need a doctor.”
“No doctors.”
“Why?”
“Because doctors talk.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You trust nobody.”
“No.”
“Not even your own people?”
“No.”
She frowned.
“Then why trust me?”
Salvatore looked at her for a long moment.
“Because you have already had every reason to betray me.”
“And I didn't.”
“No.”
He lowered his eyes.
“You didn't.”
Tessa found a first-aid kit.
She forced him to sit.
While she cleaned the wound, he watched her hands.
She realized the irony.
Those same hands had learned to communicate silence to Evan.
Now they were stopping blood from the most feared man in Chicago.
“Why did you smile when I signed to you?”
Salvatore looked surprised by the question.
“Because nobody signs to me anymore.”
“Why?”
“People think silence is weakness.”
Tessa glanced at him.
“Maybe they don't understand it.”
“No.”
He looked at her fingers.
“You did.”
A strange quiet settled between them.
Then Tessa noticed a scar beneath his collar.
A circular burn.
She touched it.
Salvatore immediately caught her wrist.
His face changed.
“Don't.”
She withdrew.
“What is it?”
“Something from your father.”
She froze.
“What?”
Salvatore stood.
“Your father wasn't only trying to expose a criminal organization.”
“Then what was he doing?”
“He was building a list.”
“What kind?”
Salvatore walked to the wall.
A hidden panel opened.
Inside were photographs.
Dozens.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officers.
Business owners.
And in the middle of them all...
Tessa's father.
She stepped closer.
“He was investigating powerful people.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father discovered something.”
“What?”
Salvatore's expression became grim.
“He discovered that the Marquetti organization wasn't the most powerful criminal network in Chicago.”
Tessa stared.
“Then who was?”
Salvatore looked at her.
“Victor Hale.”
She swallowed.
“And my father knew?”
“He knew too much.”
Tessa looked at the photographs.
Then something caught her eye.
A final photograph.
One she hadn't noticed.
It showed her parents standing beside Salvatore.
He was much younger.
Beside him stood another boy.
A teenager.
Tessa leaned closer.
She recognized him.
Her brother.
Evan.
She turned slowly.
“Why is my brother in this picture?”
Salvatore said nothing.
Tessa's pulse raced.
“When was this taken?”
“Fourteen years ago.”
“But Evan was only nine.”
“I know.”
Tessa stared at him.
Her voice barely came out.
“Why was a nine-year-old boy meeting your father?”
Salvatore's phone rang.
He answered.
A man's voice spoke rapidly.
Salvatore's face turned white.
He hung up.
Tessa stepped forward.
“What happened?”
May you like
Salvatore looked at her.
“They found Evan.”
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