Chapter 3 - Whispers in the Shadow of Providence
By the following evening, the underworld of Providence was in a state of chaos.
As Daniel had predicted, the Whitlocks did not go quietly. Denied access to the Carver docks, their shipping containers sat idle in the harbor, costing them hundreds of thousands of dollars a day. Rumors began to circulate on private forums and social media channels frequented by the city's elite.
A leaked video, shot from a guest's phone during the gala, began to trend on private messaging apps. It showed Claire holding the scissors, but the video had been cleverly edited to make Hannah look like a thief who was being rightfully reprimanded, while Daniel was painted as a unstable tyrant who had lost his mind over a servant.
Sitting in Daniel’s study, Hannah watched the video on her phone, her stomach turning.
"They are trying to turn the syndicate council against you," she said to Daniel, who was pouring over shipping manifests at his desk. "If the council thinks you are unstable, they will vote to strip you of your control over the docks."
Daniel didn't look up, his pen moving quickly over the paper. "Let them try. The council operates on power, not gossip. As long as I control the dockworkers' union, the Whitlocks can't move a single crate of bananas, let alone their illegal cargo."
A soft knock on the door interrupted them. Little Ben, the six-year-old orphan of Daniel's former bodyguard, peeked into the room. He was holding a small, wooden toy boat.
"Daniel?" Ben whispered, his eyes wide. "Is the bad lady gone?"
Daniel’s entire demeanor softened. The cold mafia boss vanished, replaced by a warm, patient guardian. He gestured for Ben to come in. "Yes, Ben. The bad lady won't be coming back here."
Ben ran over to Hannah, climbing up onto the sofa beside her. He looked at her short, blunt hair with curiosity. "Did the bad lady cut your hair because you were bad?"
"No, sweetie," Hannah said gently, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "She cut it because she was angry. But it's okay. It will grow back."
"I think it looks pretty," Ben said, leaning his head against her arm. "Like a warrior."
Daniel watched the two of them, a strange, unreadable expression in his eyes. For a man who had lived his entire life in the shadows of violence, the sight of Hannah and Ben together was a glimpse of a life he had never thought possible for himself.
"Hannah," Daniel said, his voice quiet. "I need you to look at these manifests. Aaron had a specific cipher he used to hide his audit notes. Do you recognize any of these symbols?"
Hannah slid off the sofa, keeping her hand on her stomach as she walked over to his desk. She looked down at the pages of numbers. Her eyes caught a series of small, handwritten stars in the margins—a habit Aaron had when he found a double entry.
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"Here," she said, pointing to a transaction code. "He always marked the forged manifests with a double star. This is the ship, Daniel. The SS Northern Star. It's arriving in three days."
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. "That ship is carrying enough contraband to put the Whitlocks away for life—or start a war that will burn this city to the ground."
