The Prince of Chicago

Chapter 15

Angelo

As I made my way to head up the triangle of my men on the warehouse floor, guns drawn, I was finally privy to what had gone on out of view from the office. Two lifted SUVs had crashed through the two garage doors on the far wall of the warehouse floor, smashing them to oblivion. There were now several men using said cars as a protective wall, peeking out over their hoods with guns drawn and trained on my men. In front of that was a formation not unlike the one my guys had formed, and at the peak of it, I locked eyes with the man who had surely been the mastermind behind this whole stunt: Jack O’Malley.

“Jack, I don’t believe we were expecting you,” I said, letting a conniving smile break my lips apart. “You know there are doors on this place, right?” I added, motioning toward the bashed in garage doors and tsking my tongue.

“Angelo, my boy!” Jack said, a taunting tone coating his words. “Where’s big uncle Solly? Or has he left you all alone to run the place?” Jack motioned around the warehouse in a grandiose manner, as if mocking its size for being too small to impress him. “Must be a hard life putting in all the legwork, but never getting to call the real shots.”

“One could say the same thing about yourself,” I shot back. “How many years has your cousin kept you stagnant as a lieutenant?” Jack shook his head, but didn’t take the bait to provocation.

“Ranks aside, kid, I have a message for you,” Jack said coolly. Calling me kid was also bait at provocation. I didn’t take it either.

“Like ruining an entire wall of my warehouse isn’t enough,” I said, shaking my head. “Clearly we have a problem, so just spit it out.” The tone I took clearly didn’t sit well with Jack, I could see anger flash across his already reddening face. I’d know him for years, and he’d never had an even temper. I was surprised he hadn’t blown his lid by now, considering our verbal scuff moments prior.

Jack advanced a few paces toward me, and I heard the clicking of my men adjusting their weapons, ready to shoot on my command.

“I don’t like this, boss,” I heard a voice say directly behind me. It was Denver. I held up my hand in a fist, clearly indicating to them to hold their fire.

“Jack won’t do anything, not on our own turf. It’d be a death sentence for everyone here,” I replied low as Jack continued his advance. He was now in the middle of the floor, breaking in half the space between my own men and his.

“Close enough,” I said, fist still raised. The moment I lowered it, my men would shoot. “So what is it you came all the way down here to share?”

Isabelle

I had still yet to duck and sit on the floor like Angelo had commanded, partially because I didn’t like being commanded, but mostly because I was annoyed that I was unable to see and barely able to hear what was going on outside of the office. Obviously not something good, and my better judgement told me to just do what Angelo had asked - this whole world the Outfit operated in was not something I was used to; I really had no idea what I could be getting myself into. But then again, I felt the need to know what was going on, not only for the sake of gauging my own safety, but also because any knowledge I might glean could serve as leverage down the road. Objective number one was and always would be my freedom, after all.

All of this in mind, I decided the safest option would be to move along the far wall of the office toward the open door. That way, I’d likely be able to hear the exchange better, but I wasn’t out in the open. If gunfire, or anything else dangerous, broke out, I’d be able to dive to the floor back near where I was originally standing and crawl under the desk in less than a second. I made my move slowly, so as to not draw attention from the periphery of anyone out on the floor.

Once closer to the open door, I could hear far better, though I still could not see what had made the crashing noise or who it was on the other end of the room talking to Angelo. The tension in the space was palpable. All of a sudden, Angelo’s men were readjusting their guns. Were they going to open fire, right here? A pang of fear hit my chest, and I began losing my breath. It felt like the night outside the club all over again, but this time it was worse: there wasn’t just one gun poised to shoot, there were at least 20.

Just then, a man appeared in my eyeline, walking away from the area I couldn’t see and toward Angelo, and Angelo told him to stop.

“So what is it you came all the way down here to share?” he asked, staring down at the lone man with chilling stillness. I had no doubt the guy had reinforcements where I was unable to see them.

“We picked up a couple guys down in Bridgeport last week,” the man said. “Yours. Problem is, they were in our territory.”

“Too bad we don’t operate in Bridgeport,” Angelo said back, even as ever. I had to admire his never-dying confidence.

“Well, then, that’s the problem. They said they were your men. So, either they were lying, or you are. And I’d reckon they weren’t lying given the, well, questioning we gave them,” the man gave a low chuckle at that, clearly alluding to the pain inflicted upon whoever was picked up by this group. I tried my best to shake off the shudder that brought on.

“If that’s all you came here to say, you can tell your boss the message was received,” Angelo shot back, taking a few steps forward. “Though it doesn’t sit well with me that you’d believe some low life, lying street corner thugs over someone you’ve known since birth.” Who was this guy? Clearly not a friend, but some kind of enemy, or rival maybe? I shuffled a bit closer to the doorway to get a better earshot. As I did so, the man turned his head, sensing my movement, and locked eyes on me. s**t!

“And what have we here?” he asked, turning back to Angelo, and then to me again. “A little afternoon delight?” My stomach churned under his gaze. He moved as if to take a step toward me, and I swore I saw a flash of something like recognition in his eyes. But before his foot even left the ground, Angelo caught his arm and roughly threw him back, causing him to fall to the floor and scramble back to his feet. The clattering of guns being aimed sounded beyond my sightline, back near where the man had approached from.

“You’d be wise to leave,” Angelo said in a nearly guttural tone. “Now.” He growled that last word.

“Take a joke, kid,” the man said, brushing his jacket off, though clearly sounding more shaky than I was sure he wanted to. “She must be someone special to elicit that reaction.” He shook his head as he said that last part, and I could see Angelo wrestling to keep himself restrained from going at the man again.

“Head out!” the man called to whoever was beyond my sight, and the sound of engines starting up and guns clattering immediately followed the command. “Like I said, keep your men out of our territory. If there’s a next time, your garage doors will be the least of your worries.”

He turned on his heel and retreated, away from where I could see. Angelo kept himself planted to the ground, eyes fixed on the far side of the warehouse, and his men followed suit, until the clattering noises had ceased and the cars were only heard in the distance. Finally, after several minutes, Angelo turned to me.

His eyes locked on mine, and I couldn’t help but shrink back at his piercing blue gaze. It was the same way he used to look at me when I first arrived: like he didn’t trust me. All of the warmth that had been built up in those eyes over the past month had vanished, as if it never existed in the first place.

“Back to work!” he hollered, eyes still locked on mine. As quickly as they had arrived with their arms and in formation, the men dispersed back onto the floor. Angelo stayed where he was.

“Who was that?” I asked, hoping that maybe playing dumb or innocent could help the clearly bad situation I now found myself in to blow over. Angelo let out a huff, and his eyes shifted to annoyance. “Angelo?” No response. I raised my eyebrows.

Angelo started walking over to me then, briskly, and I could tell by his body language that he was more than just angry. I furrowed my brows, trying to guess what he was about to say or do as he got closer and closer.

When he arrived to me, he grabbed my arms in both of his hands, hard enough to leave finger marks.

“Ow!” I yelped, staring up into his eyes with a mixture of confusion and pain on my face. He pulled me into the office and slammed the door shut.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he screamed, still holding onto me. “When I tell you to do something, you do it!”

“I’m sorry, I was just scared, I froze,” I said back. Partially true, at least at the beginning of the ordeal. “Please let go, you’re hurting me.” I looked up at him pleadingly. He released me then, a little bit rougher than he should’ve been, and whipped around to begin pacing.

“That man, he’s dangerous. He did not need to know I have you around,” Angelo said, still extremely heated.

“I’m sorry,” I said back. “I didn’t know. I don’t know what else to say.”

“I can’t have you freezing up any time anything happens,” he shot back, ice cold glare included. “If you continue to prove that you cannot follow simple orders, we’re going to have to have a different conversation.” He was making another threat, just like the one he made on the day I arrived.

“Excuse me?!” my fear began turning into my own anger. How dare he! I stared at him incredulously, and then he was on me once again, roughly grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the office door. “Ow!” I said again, trying to twist his wrist and break his grasp.

“We’re leaving,” he shot back, moving to open the office door. “Don’t make a scene.”