Chapter 2 - Shadows of the Thorne
Matthew Valentine looked like he had seen a demon.
Maybe he had.
Eighteen years ago, the Thorne name was law in Chicago.
My father, Victor Thorne, was the man who sat at the head of the table.
The Valentines were nothing but street thugs back then.
My father trusted Matthew’s father.
And that trust ended in a mansion consumed by flames.
I remember the smell of the smoke.
I remember the way the heat peeled the paint off the walls.
I remember my father pushing me through a hidden crawlspace.
"Run, Elena," he had told me.
"Run and never look back until you are strong enough to take it all."
I had run.
I had survived on the streets, then in the shadows, then in the military.
I became a shadow.
And then, I became a waitress.
I wanted peace.
But peace is a lie for people like me.
Matthew was trembling now, though he tried to hide it.
"Elena Thorne," he whispered. "You’re a myth."
"A myth that's about to ruin your life," I replied.
I let my foot off Jax’s neck.
He groaned, coughing up blood on the linoleum floor.
I didn't care about him. He was a tool.
Matthew reached for his phone.
I snatched it out of his hand and crushed it against the edge of the table.
"The police won't come," I said.
"And your men outside? The ones in the black SUV?"
Matthew frowned. "How did you—"
"I neutralized them before I even clocked in for my shift."
His eyes darted to the window.
The SUV was there, but the drivers were slumped against the glass.
I had seen them circling the block an hour ago.
I had taken care of it during my cigarette break.
"What do you want?" Matthew asked, his voice cracking.
"I want what was stolen," I said.
"I want the ledgers. I want the names of the men who set the fire."
"I don't know them!" he lied.
I grabbed a steak knife from the table setting.
I drove it through the sleeve of his expensive coat, pinning his arm to the wooden booth.
He let out a sharp cry of pain.
"Try again," I said.
The diner was still silent.
The patrons knew better than to interfere.
In this part of town, you mind your own business or you die.
"My father... he did it," Matthew gasped. "But he’s dead now!"
"I know he's dead," I said. "I'm the one who cut his brake lines three years ago."
Matthew’s eyes bugged out.
He finally realized the scale of the predator he was dealing with.
"You... you've been watching us this whole time?"
"Every second," I said.
"Every deal you made. Every person you hurt."
"I was waiting for you to get big enough."
May you like
"Big enough so that when you fall, the sound will be heard across the world."
***
