Chapter 8 - The Final Ultimatum
The peace, however, was a luxury the underworld rarely tolerated. Old Don Marcone was desperate. He had lost his docks, his inside source, and his reputation. He knew he couldn't beat Renick in a straight war, so he decided to strike at the one thing Renick valued more than life itself.
Two weeks after the birthday party, Belle went to pick up Micah from his private tutoring lesson in downtown Boston. As they stepped out of the building, a black SUV slammed its brakes onto the curb.
Three masked men jumped out. Before Belle could scream, a cloth laced with chloroform was pressed over her face. The last thing she heard was Micah’s desperate cry before darkness swallowed her whole.
When Belle woke up, she was tied to a wooden chair in a dusty, abandoned warehouse. Micah was tied to a chair next to her, looking terrified but remarkably calm.
In front of them stood Don Marcone, an old, cruel man with a cane and a face like wrinkled leather.
"So, this is the maid and her brat," Marcone sneered, tapping his cane against the concrete. "The ones who turned the great Renick Kavanaugh into a soft, weeping boy."
He pulled out a satellite phone and dialed a number, putting it on speaker.
"Kavanaugh," Marcone barked. "I have your woman and her kid. If you want to see them breathing, you will sign over all your shipping manifests, vacate the Boston ports, and meet me at the old ironworks at midnight. Come alone. If I see a single one of your men, I'll paint the walls with their brains."
On the other end of the line, Renick’s voice didn't sound angry. It sounded dead. The cold, ancient rage of a primordial beast had awakened.
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"If you touch a single hair on their heads, Marcone," Renick whispered, the chill in his voice vibrating through the phone, "I won't just kill you. I will erase your entire legacy from the face of the earth. I'm coming."
The line went dead. Marcone laughed, but Belle noticed a slight tremor in the old man's hand. He was terrified of what he had just unleashed.
