Chapter 4 - The Severance of Ties
Clara looked at the two men who had ruled her life with cruel indifference.
She remembered crying in her bedroom at sixteen because Jonathan had invited all his friends over to mock her weight. She remembered working through pneumonia at twenty-three to finish Richard’s corporate tax filings, only for him to take the entire bonus and buy Jonathan a new Porsche. She remembered the bruises Jonathan had left on her arm just two nights ago.
All of that pain, all of that shame, sat in the center of her chest. But looking at them now, shivering in their soiled suits, weeping at the feet of a mafia boss, the pain didn't turn into a desire for murder.
It turned into cold, absolute disgust.
“Blood isn't blood, Dad,” Clara said, her voice dropping into a register of chilling clarity. “Blood is an excuse you used to keep a slave.”
Richard looked up at her, tears tracking through the grime on his cheeks. “Clara, please. What do you want? Davis Freight is yours. Take the company! Just let us go!”
“Davis Freight is already dead,” Clara replied. “You mortgaged the warehouse to the hilt, you defaulted on your fleet loans, and you owe Gabriel Marino two million dollars.”
She turned to Gabriel. “What happens to the cash they had in Gary?”
“One point eight million in cash,” Gabriel answered promptly. “It covers the bulk of what they diverted from my logistics chain. The remaining two hundred thousand will be recouped from the liquidation of Jonathan’s assets—his condo in the Gold Coast, his cars, his watches.”
Jonathan let out a strangled whimper. “My condo? You can't take my home!”
“I already did,” Gabriel said without looking at him. “The deeds were transferred to my holding company an hour ago under emergency power of attorney. You signed it, Jonathan. Or rather, your thumbprint did while you were unconscious.”
Clara took a step closer to her father. She knelt down, bringing her face level with Richard’s. The older man flinched away, terrified that she might strike him.
“I’m not going to let Gabriel kill you,” Clara whispered.
Richard’s eyes flared with pathetic hope. “Thank God. Thank God, Clara. I knew you loved your father—”
“I don't love you,” she interrupted, cutting him down with razor precision. “Death is too easy for you. If you die today, you never have to face what you’ve done. You never have to live without your money, your reputation, your country club memberships, or your pride.”
She stood back up and looked at Gabriel.
“Can you take Davis Freight?” she asked him.
Gabriel’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “I can absorb the logistics routes, the client contracts, and the fleet into Marino Freight by noon tomorrow. With a competent administrator running it, it will be profitable again within three months.”
“Then do it,” Clara said firmly. “Strip Davis Freight down to the bare walls. Liquidate every single asset Richard and Jonathan own. Leave them with the clothes on their backs and a bus ticket to wherever they want to crawl.”
Jonathan began to shout obscenities, but Marco stepped up behind him and pressed the cold barrel of a semi-automatic pistol against the back of his neck. Jonathan instantly went mute, trembling like a leaf.
Richard bowed his head, sobbing openly. “We’ll have nothing. Clara, we’ll be ruined. We’ll be on the street!”
“Then I suggest you get a job,” Clara said coldly. “Jonathan is young. He can work sixty hours a week in a windowless basement for minimum wage. I hear it builds character.”
She turned her back on them, walking toward the metal stairs.
“Marco,” Gabriel instructed without turning around. “Process the asset forfeitures. Deposit Richard and Jonathan Davis at the Greyhound station on Harrison Street with fifty dollars each. If either of them steps foot inside Chicago city limits after sundown tonight, put them in the river.”
“Understood, Boss,” Marco said.
Gabriel walked across the room, falling into step beside Clara. As they ascended the stairs away from the weeping and begging echoing from the holding cells, Clara felt her knees buckle. The adrenaline that had carried her through the confrontation vanished in an instant.
She stumbled on the metal grating.
Gabriel caught her instantly, scooping her up into his arms before she could hit the steel steps.
“I have you,” Gabriel murmured, his chest solid against her side.
“I can walk,” Clara whispered, though she leaned her head against his shoulder, entirely out of strength.
May you like
“You’ve carried the weight of those two bastards for a decade,” Gabriel said, carrying her up the stairs as though she weighed nothing at all. “You can let someone else carry you for five minutes.”
***
