Chapter 4 - The Order of the Boss
Within twelve minutes, three black armored SUVs tore through the gates of the Lake Shore Drive estate. Caleb took the grand marble stairs three at a time, bursting into his mother’s private bedroom.
Margaret was sitting in her bed, wrapped in a cashmere shawl. Her personal physician was finishing a check on her blood pressure.
"She had a severe angina attack, Mr. Vance," the doctor explained quietly, bowing his head nervously under Caleb’s intense glare. "If she hadn't received immediate assistance and comfort to stabilize her heart rate, she would have gone into full cardiac arrest on the street."
Caleb’s face turned lethally cold. He walked over to his mother’s bedside and knelt, gripping her frail hand.
"Who did this to you?" Caleb asked, his tone so dark it made the doctor shiver. "Who left you on the street?"
"No one did it to me, my son," Margaret said gently, running her hand through Caleb’s dark hair. "I dropped my medicine. I collapsed outside the pharmacy on Wabash."
"The people of that district..." Caleb’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. "They stepped over you?"
"Dozens of them," Margaret said quietly. "They walked past me like I was garbage. Except for one."
Caleb raised his head. "One?"
Margaret described everything: the young woman in the frayed coat, the grease-stained apron, the peppermint placed softly in her hand, the quiet ride in the cab, the absolute refusal to take the five thousand dollars.
"She was freezing, Caleb," Margaret whispered, tears welling in her old eyes. "Her shoes had holes in them. She looked like she carried the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. But when I tried to pay her, she told me that taking the money would ruin the meaning of saving a life."
Caleb remained motionless. In his brutal world, where every interaction was dictated by leverage, fear, or financial gain, the story sounded like a myth.
"Did you get her name?" Caleb asked.
"Only her first name. The cab driver said it as she was leaving," Margaret said, gripping her son’s arm tightly. "Dileia. She said she had a daughter waiting for her. Caleb... I want you to find her."
Caleb stood up to his full height. His eyes were burning with a fierce, absolute determination.
"If she is in this city, Mother," Caleb vowed, "I will find her."
He turned to Bishop, who was standing by the bedroom door.
"Pull every security camera feed from Wabash and 8th between 10:00 PM and 11:30 PM last night," Caleb commanded, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "Cross-reference every diner, restaurant, and bakery within a ten-block radius. Look for a waitress named Dileia with a young daughter. Deploy the entire network."
"Consider it done, boss," Bishop replied.
"And Bishop?" Caleb added, his eyes narrowing. "Identify every single person who stepped over my mother while she was lying on that sidewalk."
May you like
Bishop nodded coldly. "What should we do with them?"
"Find out where they work," Caleb said softly. "Buy their debt. Revoke their leases. Remind them what happens when you treat a human life like trash in my city."
