Chapter 15
The transition back to the secure playroom was jarring. Vincent stripped off the heavy Kevlar vest and his suit jacket, leaving him in just his blood-spattered white dress shirt. He wiped the soot from his hands and face before entering the biometric code on the steel door.
Evelyn was sitting on the sofa, telling Clara a story about a brave princess. When the heavy door hissed open, she looked up, her hollow eyes searching his face for any sign of injury.
"It's over," Vincent said softly, the terrifying Mafia boss vanishing instantly, replaced by the devoted husband and father. "The estate is secure. You are safe."
Evelyn exhaled a long, shuddering breath, pulling Clara closer. "What happens now, Vincent? They know I am alive. They know you know the truth about your father."
"Now, we change the rules," Vincent stated, walking over and kneeling before his wife and daughter. He reached out, his tattooed hand gently stroking Evelyn’s pale cheek. "I am moving you both to a secure, heavily fortified compound outside the city. A fortress. You will have a medical team, security, and everything you need to recover."
"You aren't coming with us?" Clara asked, her lower lip trembling.
"I have to clean up a very big mess, little bird," Vincent murmured, kissing her forehead. "But I will be there soon. I promise."
He stood up, looking at Evelyn. "I am going to tear the Commission apart. They stole four years of our lives. They murdered my father. I will not stop until every single man involved is dead."
Evelyn didn't ask him for mercy. She had spent four years in a dark, silent tomb because of those men. She looked at her husband, her eyes hardening with newfound resolve.
"Make them pay, Vincent," she whispered.
May you like
"I will," Vincent promised.
He escorted them to the heavily armored extraction convoy waiting in the underground garage. As he watched the black SUVs drive away, carrying his entire world to safety, the cold, sociopathic detachment returned. The father was gone. The warlord remained.
