Chapter 8: The Shadow's Retaliation
While Elena held her baby in disbelief, three miles away at the central district police precinct, Richard Vance was posting bail.
A high-priced defense attorney hired by Richard’s corrupt associates had exploited a technical loophole regarding the initial seizure of the timecards, securing Richard's temporary release pending a formal grand jury indictment.
Richard walked out of the precinct into the biting morning air, his face pale and eyes burning with malice. He was ruined. His reputation in the restaurant world was incinerated, his bank accounts were frozen under court order, and he faced years in federal prison.
“Sterling thinks he can destroy my life over a three-hundred-dollar dishwasher?” Richard muttered furiously as he climbed into his attorney’s town car. “He thinks he's a god in this city.”
“Richard, keep your mouth shut,” the attorney warned, closing his laptop. “Sterling owns the DA’s office, the judges, and half the state legislature. Your best move is to take a plea deal and accept three years in a minimum-security facility.”
“I’m not spending a single day in a cage while that girl walks away with everything,” Richard snarled.
He pulled a disposable burner phone from his coat pocket. Over the years, managing a luxury restaurant frequented by underworld figures had given Richard access to dangerous contacts—men who resolved disputes outside the boundaries of the law.
He dialed a number memorized long ago.
“It’s Vance,” Richard whispered, shielding the phone from his lawyer. “I need a job done today. Sterling’s pet dishwasher on Elm Street. I want her silenced before she can testify in front of the grand jury tomorrow morning.”
On the other end of the line, a cold, gravelly voice answered. “Ten grand upfront. Five after the job.”
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“Done,” Richard hissed, his fingers gripping the phone like a claw. “Make it look like an accidental fire. Just like her husband.”
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