Chapter 3 - Dismantling the Russo Trap
While Sofia slept, recovering her strength, I made a phone call. The hospital room was my command center, and Matteo was my executioner.
“Talk to me,” I demanded quietly into the phone, watching Elara through the NICU glass.
“Boss, the intel is worse than we thought,” Matteo’s voice was grim. “Bianca’s family, the Russos, orchestrated the whole thing. Her father, Don Russo, was losing grip on his territory. He needed a permanent alliance with our syndicate. When they found out you and Sofia were struggling to conceive, they bribed the clinic director, Dr. Evans, to falsify the labs. They convinced you Sofia was barren to drive a wedge between you.”
“And Bianca’s current pregnancy?” I asked, my voice deadly soft.
“DNA testing confirms she’s pregnant, but it’s not yours, Adrian. She was sleeping with one of her father’s enforcers. They planned to pass the kid off as your heir to cement her position as your wife, while making sure Sofia vanished so the truth never came out.”
A dark, terrifying calm settled over me. “Where are they?”
“We have Bianca secured in the safehouse. Don Russo is currently at his casino in the South Side, thinking he’s untouchable.”
“Keep Bianca on ice. I’ll deal with her father personally.”
I left four of my best men stationed outside Sofia and Elara’s rooms. I walked out of Rush University Medical Center not as a grieving husband, but as the ruthless Underboss of the Chicago syndicate.
An hour later, my convoy of black SUVs surrounded the Russo Casino. My men poured into the building, heavily armed, locking down every exit. I walked straight through the opulent gaming floor, ignoring the screams of the patrons and the desperate attempts of Russo’s security to draw their weapons. My men disarmed them before they could even aim.
I kicked open the doors to Don Russo’s private office. He was sitting behind his mahogany desk, a cigar dropping from his gaping mouth as I leveled a suppressed pistol directly at his forehead.
“Adrian, what is the meaning of this?” he stammered, raising his hands.
“You touched my wife,” I said, my voice eerily flat. “You tampered with my family.”
“I don't know what you’re—”
I fired a single shot. It shattered the crystal decanter inches from his hand, showering him with expensive whiskey and glass. He screamed, dropping to his knees.
“Dr. Evans confessed everything before my men broke his hands,” I lied smoothly, though I fully intended for Matteo to do exactly that later. “You ruined my marriage. You put my wife in heart failure. You put my daughter in an incubator. Your bloodline ends tonight in this city.”
“Please!” Russo begged, crying like a child. “Take the territory! Take the casino! Just spare my life!”
“Your territory was already mine,” I sneered, lowering the gun. “Matteo.”
Matteo stepped into the office with a stack of legal documents. “Sign them,” I ordered. “Sign over every asset, every property, every legitimate business to the Bennett Trust—in my daughter’s name. If you refuse, I will end you right here, and then I will pay a visit to your daughter at the safehouse.”
Russo scrambled for a pen, his hands shaking so violently he tore the paper as he signed away his entire empire.
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“Now, get out of Chicago,” I whispered, leaning over the desk to look him in the eyes. “If I ever see your face, or Bianca’s face, in my city again, I will not hesitate. You have one hour.”
I walked out of the casino, leaving the ruins of the Russo family behind me. It wasn't enough to erase the pain they had caused Sofia, but it was a start. The empire was secure. Now, I had to secure the only thing that actually mattered. My family.
