Chapter 4 - The Morning After
By seven o'clock the following morning, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets of Chicago slick and gray under a low ceiling of clouds.
At the Vital Logistics corporate headquarters on Wacker Drive, the forty-second floor was in a state of controlled panic.
Luca Vital sat at his massive walnut desk, a cup of untouched black coffee sitting beside three ringing smartphones. His tie was loosened, his eyes bloodshot, and his suit jacket hung over the back of his chair.
Standing near the glass window was Giana, wearing the same silk blouse from the night before, her face pale and her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"She hasn't checked into any hotel in the city," Giana said nervously, her voice high and strained. "I called her friends from college. I called aunt Maria in Naples. Nobody has heard from her. Luca, what if she went to the police?"
"Shut up, Giana," Luca growled, not looking up from his laptop screen.
He slammed his hand onto the desk. "Her passcodes shouldn't be working! Why am I locked out of the central server?"
The heavy double doors of the office swung open.
Vincent Vane, the chief legal counsel for Vital Logistics, hurried into the room carrying a thick stack of printed notices. His forehead was slick with sweat.
"Luca," Vincent breathed, catching his breath. "We have a catastrophic situation at the port."
"What are you talking about?" Luca stood up, his dark eyes flashing with anger. "The morning cargo shifts were loaded at five AM—"
"The union workers laid down their tools twenty minutes ago," Vincent interrupted, placing the papers on the desk. "All six thousand dockworkers across Terminals 1, 3, and 7 have officially declared a wildcat strike."
Luca stared at him in disbelief. "A wildcat strike? On what grounds? We signed a four-year labor contract six months ago!"
"They aren't striking over wages," Vincent said, his voice trembling. "They are striking under Section 12 of the Maritime Safety Act—claiming that the executive leadership of Vital Logistics is currently under legal dispute regarding corporate ownership."
Luca grabbed the top sheet of paper.
It was a formal injunction issued by the Cook County Chancery Division at six-fifteen this morning.
It placed a temporary freeze on all asset transfers, corporate restructuring orders, and vessel departures belonging to Rossi Maritime and its subsidiaries—pending a emergency hearing filed by attorney Arthur Pendelton on behalf of the primary shareholder: Elena Rossi Vital.
Luca’s jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. "She doesn't have the voting majority. I signed the power of attorney transfer yesterday!"
"The judge suspended your power of attorney," Vincent explained quietly. "Arthur Pendelton submitted a sworn affidavit along with a forensic handwriting analysis showing that Elena’s signature on those documents was forged."
Giana let out a faint whimpering sound, taking a step back toward the window. "Luca... what does that mean?"
Luca didn't answer her. He picked up his personal phone and dialed Elena's cell number for the forty-fifth time that morning.
The call went straight to voicemail.
Instead of her cheerful, soft voice, a cold, automated tone played across the speaker:
"The number you have reached has been permanently disconnected by the account holder."
May you like
Luca threw the phone against the glass window, the screen shattering into a spiderweb pattern before dropping onto the carpet.
"Get the car," Luca ordered Vincent, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "We're going to the court."
