Chapter 4 - The Boardroom and the Beast
Three months later, the neon sign of Carmichael’s Diner was a distant memory, replaced by the clean, polished glass of the Rossi Logistics corporate suite on the twelfth floor of downtown Chicago.
Mave adjusted the cuffs of her charcoal blazer, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline she used to view through a dirty kitchen porthole. Her Civic was gone—replaced, much to her initial protest, by a reliable sedan that actually had a functioning heater and didn't rattle at eighty miles an hour.
At her feet, Kaiser let out a heavy sigh, his massive chin resting across her left shoe as he chewed lazily on a rubber toy.
The heavy oak door of her office opened without a knock. Vane walked in, looking immaculate in a tailored charcoal suit, his posture completely recovered from the gunshot wound that had brought them together. He stopped by her desk, setting a fresh cup of black coffee down beside her dual monitors.
"The dock shipments from Rotterdam are delayed," Vane said, leaning his hip against the edge of her desk. "Customs is holding container four. Mateo thinks we should bribe the inspector."
Mave didn't look up from her screen. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up the customs manifest and cross-referencing it with the local port authority logs.
"Mateo is an idiot," Mave said calmly. "Inspector Vance hates cash bribes—they leave a paper trail. But his wife runs a struggling animal rescue in Cicero. If we make an anonymous corporate donation of twenty thousand dollars to the rescue under his district code, container four will clear customs by noon tomorrow without a single form being stamped."
Vane looked down at her, a slow, dangerous smile touching his lips. "You're getting too good at this, Mave. You're starting to sound like a criminal mastermind."
"I learned from the best," she shot back, finally looking up. Her eyes met his pale gray ones—no longer filled with fear or shock, but with a sharp, bantering equality that no one else in Vane’s empire dared to cross.
Vane reached out, his hand pausing just above her desk before he withdrew it, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his features. "Dinner tonight? There’s a place on Michigan Avenue that doesn't serve instant ramen or day-old pie."
May you like
"Only if Kaiser comes," Mave said, raising an eyebrow.
"Kaiser goes everywhere you go now," Vane muttered, turning toward the door. "He likes your apartment better than mine anyway."
