Chapter 7 - Return to Pilsen
Dawn broke over the pine forest, casting a blinding, ethereal white glow across the snow-covered landscape inside the cabin.
Emma woke up wrapped in a thick wool blanket on the sofa. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, radiating a gentle, lingering heat. Across the room, Roman was standing by the kitchen counter, brewing dark, black coffee that filled the air with a rich, inviting aroma.
Lily was awake, cooing softly while playing with the fringe of Emma's scarf.
"Coffee?" Roman asked, holding out a steaming mug as Emma sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking the mug and inhaling the bitter, grounding scent. "How's your shoulder?"
"Stiff, but functional," Roman replied, taking a sip of his own coffee. "We need to move before Vance realizes which direction we headed. We're going back to Pilsen."
"Back to the city?" Emma's heart skipped a beat. "Won't they be waiting for us?"
"They'll be watching my corporate office, my downtown penthouse, and all my known associates," Roman said, a cold, confident smirk playing on his lips. "They won't expect me to walk right back into the lion's den—the old neighborhood where Caleb and I grew up."
Two hours later, they packed up the SUV and headed south back toward Chicago. The storm had cleared, leaving the city streets blanketed in a pristine, deceptive layer of white snow.
They parked three blocks away from the small, run-down automotive garage on 18th Street in Pilsen. The sign above the door read Caleb’s Auto Repair, the neon 'Open' sign dark and coated in dust.
"Stay in the car," Roman instructed, pulling his dark coat tight around his shoulders and checking the Sig Sauer pistol tucked into his holster.
"Roman, no," Emma protested, unbuckling her seatbelt. "If Vance's men are watching this place, you'll walk right into an ambush alone. Lily and I stay together, or we go together."
Roman stared at her, seeing the stubborn, unyielding fire in her eyes—the exact same look Caleb used to get when he refused to back down from a fight. A slow, genuine smile finally touched the corners of Roman's mouth.
May you like
"All right," he conceded. "Stay close behind me. Step where I step."
They slipped out of the SUV, the biting Chicago wind stinging their faces. Moving quickly and quietly, they navigated the snow-slicked alleyway behind the garage. Roman used a master lockpick from his kit to silently click open the back service door, and they slipped inside into the dim, oil-scented interior of the garage.
