Chapter 6 - The Viper's Last Strike
Three days had passed since Serena Montigue was banished to the cold depths of the Blackwood estate's subterranean holding cells.
Upstairs on the third floor, the guest suite had been transformed into a luxurious sanctuary. Dr. Vance had confirmed cracked ribs and severe bruising for Lily, prescribing strict bed rest, though Lily stubbornly insisted on spending her waking hours in the nursery with Ethan, whose arm was now safely wrapped in a lightweight pediatric cast.
The little boy had grown even more attached to Lily, refusing to let her out of his sight. And strangely enough, Victor Blackwood had become a constant presence in the nursery.
The fearsome syndicate boss, a man whose word could spark gang wars or collapse financial markets, spent his evenings sitting quietly in a plush armchair by the window, reviewing intelligence reports with one hand while feeding baby Ethan a bottle with the other. An unspoken, fragile bond had begun to weave itself around the three of them—a strange, domestic peace in the heart of a fortress.
But peace in the underworld never lasted long.
Down in the subterranean holding cell, Serena Montigue was playing her final, desperate card.
She sat on the edge of the cot, her hair tangled, her designer dress ruined, but her eyes burning with a manic, obsessive fire. She had managed to bribe one of the rotating perimeter guards with promises of millions in hidden Swiss bank accounts—a guard who didn't realize that loyalty to Victor Blackwood was the only currency that mattered in Chicago.
"Here is your burner phone," the guard muttered nervously, sliding a small device under the heavy steel door. "You have five minutes before the patrol changes. Call whoever you want, but if the Boss finds out, we're both dead."
Serena snatched the phone off the concrete floor, her fingers trembling as she dialed a private, encrypted number.
It rang twice before a deep, gravelly voice answered on the other end. "Speak."
"Father!" Serena sobbed into the receiver, letting the tears flow with calculated perfection. "You have to help me! Victor has locked me in the dungeons of his mansion! He turned on me because of a fucking nanny! He's cutting off the Montigue alliance!"
On the other end of the line was Don Salvatore Montigue—head of the city's oldest and most ruthless Italian syndicate. A heavy, dangerous silence hung over the line.
"My daughter," Salvatore's voice dropped into a low, menacing growl. "Imprisoned in a Blackwood estate like a common criminal? Over a servant?"
"He's blinded by her!" Serena lied venomously. "They're plotting to usurp our territories, Father! You need to strike first. Hit the Blackwood shipping docks on Lake Michigan tonight. Burn it to the ground. Show him that the Montigue family cannot be discarded!"
"Consider it done, my child," Salvatore replied coldly. "Pack your bags. By sunrise, I'll be walking through those gates to collect you, and Victor Blackwood will be begging for mercy."
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The line went dead. Serena let out a shrill, hysterical laugh in the dark, damp cell, believing her victory was absolute.
She had no idea she had just walked right into a trap that Victor had been setting for months.
