Chapter 7 - The Cicero Safehouse
The rain was still falling in sheets when Marco’s black sedan pulled into the detached garage of a modest brick bungalow in Cicero. The neighborhood was quiet, a working-class suburb where nobody asked questions about the cars that arrived in the middle of the night.
Marco hurried Sophia inside, his jacket wrapped around her to keep her dry. The safehouse was sparse—a kitchen, a small living room with covered furniture, and a basement accessible through a hidden floor panel.
"Sit here, Sophia," Marco said, placing her on a kitchen chair and setting the pink backpack on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered it quickly. "Talk to me."
It was one of the guards from the restaurant, his voice strained. "The boss took out four of them, Marco. But Miller got away. The police are flooding the area now. Vincent told us to scatter. We don't know where he is."
Marco cursed under his breath, hanging up. He looked at Sophia, who was watching him with wide, intelligent eyes.
"Is the man from the restaurant okay?" she asked softly.
May you like
Marco walked over, kneeling in front of her just as Vincent had done. "Vincent is the toughest man in this city, kid. It takes more than a few politicians' thugs to stop him. But right now, we have to finish what your mom started."
He opened the backpack, pulling out the digital recorder. "We need to get this information out before Miller tracks us here. If Senator Sterling realizes we have the infrastructure files, he'll use every resource he has to erase this house from the map."
