Chapter 107 Chapter 107
Damien’s POV
I stood staring at the destroyed tape for a long moment, feeling the weight of lost opportunity pressing down on me. That footage could have given us answers, identified more traitors, shown us exactly how the Morellis had coordinated their attack.
Now it was just fragments of metal and plastic scattered across the warehouse floor.
“Boss,” Vincent said from behind me, his voice strained with pain. “What are we going to do now? Without that tape, how are we supposed to know what actually happened during the shooting?”
I turned to look at him. His face was pale, his injured hand cradled against his chest, genuine distress written across his features.
“I still have another reliable source,” I said carefully, watching his reaction. “Another way to know what actually happened during the attack.”
Vincent’s eyes widened slightly. “What source? I thought the tape was our only evidence.”
“You don’t have to worry.”
“But boss…” Vincent started.
“That’s enough,” I interrupted, my voice hard.
“You don’t need to know everything. Right now, you need medical attention and rest.”
Vincent looked like he wanted to argue, but the pain in his hand must have convinced him otherwise. He nodded reluctantly and fell silent.
Lorenzo stepped closer, his expression troubled. “Boss, there’s another problem. Vincent’s identity and location have been compromised by this attack. If that gang….whoever they were working for knows who he is and where to find him, he’s not safe going back to his regular residence.”
I considered this. Lorenzo was right. If the Morellis or whoever orchestrated this attack knew about Vincent, they might try again.
“He’ll need a safe place,” Lorenzo continued. “Somewhere secure until we can assess the threat level.”
An idea formed in my mind. “Vincent might come to the safehouse with me,” I said. “Once he’s finished his assignments here in the city.”
Lorenzo nodded, seeming satisfied with this solution. He clearly trusted Vincent completely.
But I thought about Kai, about how my head of security would react to Vincent coming to the safehouse. Kai questioned everything, trusted no one. He’d watch Vincent’s every move, analyze every word, look for any sign of deception or betrayal.
Which was exactly what I needed right now.
“Get him to the hospital,” I said to Lorenzo.
“Make sure his hand is properly treated. Then wait for me. I have something I need to take care of first.”
“Where are you going, boss?” Lorenzo asked.
“I’m heading to see the chief of police,” I said. “We need to have a private discussion about the investigation at my compound. Make sure things are being handled properly.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Lorenzo offered.
“No,” I said. “Stay here. Secure the warehouse. Make sure there’s no additional evidence left behind that could compromise us. I’ll handle the chief myself.”
“Yes, boss,” Lorenzo said.
I walked out of the warehouse, got into my car, and drove toward the police station downtown.
The city was busy with evening traffic, people going about their normal lives completely unaware of the war being waged in the shadows around them.
The police station was a imposing concrete building in the heart of downtown. I parked in the visitor lot and walked in through the main entrance, moving with the confidence of someone who had every right to be there.
“I’m here to see Chief Patterson,” I told the officer at the front desk. “He’s expecting me.”
That was a lie, but the officer didn’t need to know that.
“Let me check,” the officer said, picking up his phone and dialing. After a brief conversation, he looked back at me with an apologetic
expression. “I’m sorry, sir. The chief isn’t in his office right now. He’s out on a call.”
I felt frustration spike but kept my expression neutral. “When will he be back?”
“I’m not sure. Could be an hour, could be longer.”
“I’ll wait,” I said, moving toward the waiting area.
But before I could sit down, a familiar voice stopped me.
“Mr. Alejandro.”
I turned to see Detective Sarah Morrison
standing in the hallway, her arms crossed, her expression sharp and assessing.
“Detective,” I acknowledged coolly.
“Funny seeing you here,” she said, walking closer. “Coming to the police station of your own free will. Most people in your position try to avoid us.”
“I’m a law-abiding citizen,” I said smoothly. “I have nothing to hide from the police.”
“Don’t you?” Sarah asked, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe that for a second. “Because I find it interesting that you show up here the same day another body linked to organized crime turns up dead.”
I kept my expression carefully neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t,” Sarah said, moving closer, invading my personal space in a way that was clearly meant to intimidate. “Just like you don’t know anything about the shootout at your compound. Or the territorial disputes that have been escalating throughout the city. Or the fact that several businesses linked to the Morelli family have been attacked in the past week.”
“I came here to speak with Chief officer about the ongoing investigation into the attack on my home,” I said, my voice calm and measured.
“An attack in which nineteen of my employees were killed. I have every right to want answers about who did this and why.”
“Your employees,” Sarah repeated with a slight smile. “That’s what we’re calling armed guards now? Employees?”
“They worked for me,” I said simply. “They provided security for my property. All completely legal.”
“Right,” Sarah said. “Legal. Just like everything else you do.”
I could see her trying to bait me, trying to get me to say something incriminating or lose my temper. But I’d been dealing with police for years. I knew how to handle interrogations disguised as casual conversations.
“Is there something specific you wanted to ask me, Detective?” I said. “Because if not, I’m going to wait for the chief.”
“I want to know what you’re really doing here,” Sarah said, her professional facade starting to crack slightly. “I want to know why a man with your resources and connections feels the need to personally show up at a police station to ask about an investigation. You could have sent a lawyer. Could have made phone calls. But you came yourself. Why?”
“Maybe I’m just civic-minded,” I said with a slight smile.
“Or maybe you’re trying to find out how much we know,” Sarah countered. “Trying to get ahead of whatever evidence we’ve found. Trying to manipulate the investigation from the inside like you’ve probably manipulated dozens of investigations before.”
Her voice was rising now, professional detachment giving way to frustration and anger.
“I know what you are, Mr. Alejandro,” she continued, stepping even closer. “I know you’re involved in organized crime. I know you’re in some sort of war with the Morelli family. I know people are dying because of this conflict between you two. And I know it’s going to continue more deaths, more violence, more destruction unless someone stops it.”
She paused, her eyes boring into mine.
“So here’s what I want from you,” Sarah said, her voice dropping lower. “Come clean. Tell me what’s really going on. Work with me instead of against me. Help me stop this before more innocent people get caught in the crossfire. Because right now, you’re on a path that ends with either you dead or you in prison. Those are your only two options.”