Chapter 9 - The Shadows of the South DistrictWhile the high-society boardrooms of the Financial District adjusted to the seismic shift, a darker, far more immediate threat was stirring in the damp, narrow streets of the South District.
In a back booth of a dimly lit diner on 4th Street—the very diner where Claire had worked sixty hours a week until three days ago—Julian Sterling sat across from a man in a greasy leather jacket.
The man was named Vance "The Hammer" Miller—a notorious enforcer for the local dock unions who handled off-the-books problems for wealthy clients who couldn't use lawyers.
Outside the diner's foggy windows, rain drizzled over the rusted fire escapes and cluttered alleyways.
"My sister is facing federal indictment," Julian whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed rage as he slid an envelope stuffed with crisp hundred-dollar bills across the sticky formica table. "Daniel Vaughn thinks he has won because he holds my father's old shares."
Miller didn't touch the envelope immediately. He lit a cheap cigarette, blowing a thin plume of grey smoke toward the low ceiling. "Vaughn’s got private security tighter than the federal reserve right now, Sterling. His head of security is Marcus Cole—ex-special forces. You can't touch him at his penthouse."
"I don't want you to touch Daniel," Julian hissed, leaning closer over the table. "I want the girl."
Miller raised an eyebrow through the cigarette smoke. "The kid?"
"No. The mother," Julian corrected, his eyes glittering with bitter, vengeful malice. "Claire Dawson still has her old apartment lease on 8th Avenue. She hasn't turned in her keys to the landlord yet. She has five years of personal tax records, medical files, and old journals stored in a metal filing cabinet in that basement apartment."
Julian tapped his manicured finger against the table.
"If Daniel Vaughn gets his hands on those personal journals, he'll use them in court to prove psychological torture and intent to destroy a life. That will double my sister's criminal charges and open my family’s estate to a civil lawsuit that will wipe us out completely."
Miller leaned forward, snagging the heavy envelope from the table and tucking it into his leather jacket. "You want me to clean out the basement apartment?"
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"Burn it," Julian spat coldly. "Burn the filing cabinet, burn the records, and make sure the fire destroys the entire floor. Let Daniel Vaughn see what happens when he tries to ruin the Sterling family."
Miller grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. "Consider it done, boss."
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