Chapter 6 - Shadows from the Past
While Victor tracked his wife through the snow drifts of southern Wisconsin, a different kind of storm was gathering in downtown Chicago.
Inside the opulent, velvet-lined office of Vance Holdings on Michigan Avenue, Julian Vance sat behind a glass desk, swirling a glass of thirty-year-old cognac.
Julian was fifty-five, sharp-featured, with ice-grey hair and eyes that calculated the financial value of everything he looked at. For ten years, he had been Victor Rinaldi’s primary rival in the lucrative grey-market logistics and real estate development sectors of the Midwest.
Sitting across from him on a leather sofa was Sylvia, her face pale, her mascara smudged, clutching a designer handbag as if it were a life raft.
"He ruined me," Sylvia spat, her voice shrill with hatred. "He had his security guys change the locks on my apartment four hours ago! He cleared out my bank accounts! He spoke to me like I was a piece of trash on the street!"
Julian smiled slowly, taking a small sip of his drink. "Victor is a violent man when he is cornered, my dear. But you didn't come here just to cry about your lost lease. What happened?"
Sylvia leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with vindictive pleasure. "His wife took the kids and ran."
Julian’s hand froze mid-air. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a razor-sharp focus. "Nora?"
"She left this morning during the storm," Sylvia said, leaning in closer. "She took their premature twins, fifty grand worth of gear, and vanished. Victor has gone completely out of his mind. He pulled Marco and his top six security guys out of the city. The entire Rinaldi network in Chicago is running on a skeleton crew today."
Julian sat back in his high-backed chair, his mind spinning through the immense tactical opening that had just opened before him.
For five years, Victor Rinaldi had been untouchable because he was meticulous, calm, and held total control over his environment. But a man searching for his missing wife and sick infants in the middle of a blizzard was not calm. He was distracted. Vulnerable.
"Where did she go?" Julian asked smoothly.
"I don't know," Sylvia admitted. "But I overheard Victor talking to Marco on the phone last week about some property trust in Wisconsin that Nora’s family owned. Something about an old farm near Lake Geneva."
Julian reached for the heavy brass landline phone on his desk and picked up the receiver.
"Who are you calling?" Sylvia asked, a sudden flicker of doubt entering her eyes.
"Some friends of mine in Milwaukee," Julian replied, dialing a unlisted ten-digit number. "Men who specialize in high-value asset retrieval."
"Julian... you aren't going to hurt the babies, are you?" Sylvia asked, her voice faltering slightly. "I just wanted Victor ruined. I didn't want—"
Julian raised a single finger to his lips, shutting her up instantly.
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"Quiet, Sylvia," Julian said, his voice cold and terrifyingly practical. "When you set fire to a man's house, you don't complain about the smoke. You just make sure he burns inside it."
Into the receiver, Julian spoke three words: "Find the Subaru."
