Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Daniel Cross
Z
The subterranean air was thick, tasting of rust and old earth. The secret tunnel beneath Callaway’s snaked for what felt like miles, lit only by the sporadic, sickly yellow glow of emergency bulbs encased in wire cages. My boots echoed against the damp concrete, a chaotic rhythm that matched the frantic hammering of my heart. Ava was crying in earnest now, a wailing, terrified sound that tore at my soul. I rocked her as I ran, whispering broken lullabies and useless promises, my arms burning from the strain.
Reed moved ahead of me like a specter, entirely unbothered by the darkness. He held a suppressed pistol in his right hand, his posture rigid and hyper-alert. Every few dozen yards, he would pause, listening to the muffled, reverberating thuds from the streets above. The snowstorm raging in Chicago had provided a blanket of white noise, but down here, the silence was oppressive, broken only by our ragged breathing.
"We have three blocks until the extraction point," Reed threw over his shoulder, his voice echoing eerily. "Can you keep her quiet?"
"She's hungry, she's cold, and she's terrified!" I snapped, the maternal fury finally piercing through my paralyzing fear. "She's an eight-month-old baby, Reed! I can't just press a mute button!"
He stopped so suddenly I nearly crashed into his broad back. He spun around, his dark eyes flashing with a terrifying intensity. "Listen to me," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low octave. "The men above us are Russian mercenaries hired by the Volkov syndicate. They do not care that she is a baby. They do not care that you are an innocent waitress who couldn't pay her rent. If they hear her, they will drill through this street and bury us all alive. You will find a way to quiet her, or I will leave you both down here. Do you understand?"
Tears of pure rage and helplessness spilled hot down my freezing cheeks. I hated him. I hated Daniel. But most of all, I hated my own powerlessness. I sank to my knees on the dirty concrete, unbuttoning my thick winter coat and then my uniform blouse. I didn't care about modesty; I didn't care about the freezing air. I pulled Ava to my chest, letting her nurse. The sudden warmth and comfort worked instantly. Her frantic cries hitched into quiet, shuddering sighs as she clung to me, her tiny fists grabbing at my shirt.
Reed stood above us, his expression unreadable as he averted his eyes, keeping his weapon trained down the dark tunnel. For a long, tense minute, the only sound was Ava’s soft, rhythmic swallowing.
"Who is he?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The silence demanded to be filled. "Who was the man I loved?"
Reed didn't look at me, but his shoulders visibly tightened. "His real name is Dante Volkov. The bastard son of the most vicious mob boss in Chicago. He was supposed to inherit the empire, but three years ago, he decided he wanted out. You don't just 'retire' from the Volkov family. Dante stole the family's master ledger—a digital hard drive containing the offshore accounts, the blackmail files on judges and politicians, the exact coordinates of every shipment of narcotics moving through the rust belt."
"And he just... disappeared?" I asked, horrified.
"He tried to," Reed scoffed darkly. "He changed his face, his name, his entire life. He hid in the suburbs playing the role of a charming, struggling contractor named Daniel Cross. But Dante was arrogant. He thought he could start a new bloodline without his father finding out. He met you. He got you pregnant. And then, the Volkovs got close. They found his scent. So, Dante ran again, leaving you and the child behind as a decoy. He knew they would eventually track the bracelet. He used his own daughter to buy himself time to vanish."
The words felt like physical blows. My stomach violently rebelled, a wave of nausea washing over me as the reality of my existence shattered. My entire life with Daniel had been a calculated lie. The romantic dinners, the whispered promises, the tearful apologies when he claimed he had to leave for a 'long-term contract out west'—it was all a desperate cover-up by a ruthless criminal using me as a human shield.
"Why are you helping us, then?" I asked, looking up at Reed's imposing silhouette. "If the Volkovs want us, why not just hand us over? Why risk your empire for a waitress and a baby you didn't know existed an hour ago?"
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Reed finally turned to look at me, his eyes catching the dim, yellow light of the tunnel. For the first time, I saw something hauntingly vulnerable beneath his terrifying exterior.
"Because ten years ago," Reed said softly, "Dante Volkov murdered my wife. And I am going to use his daughter to force him out of hiding so I can put a bullet between his eyes."
