𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞
I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
Francesca "Frank" Monroe. One of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in the history of Chicago. The woman everyone...
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I had sent Sawyer and Irving to one of Theodore Pierce's suspected stash houses located in East Garfield Park. I was sure that what they would find there would be significant enough to condemn Theodore. I was convinced that Theodore and Sergei Ivanov were partners in the drug trade, all I needed was convincing evidence that could seal Theodore's fate before The Council.
Perched on the balcony, I indulged in a satisfying smoke, expectantly waiting for the positive update I was confident I would soon receive.
Hearing the clearing of Sawyer's throat, I turned my attention to him, eager for the news I had been anticipating. However, as I took in the expression on his face, my optimism swiftly turned into disappointment.
"We searched the whole place, Frankie," Sawyer began, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. His features twisted with disappointment and regret. "But... there's no sign of anything tying Theodore to Sergei's operations."
I was silent, absorbing the shock. After all the meticulous planning and all the chess moves to corner Theodore Pierce, it felt like a punch in the gut.
"No...there must be some sort of mistake. We're certain that stash house belongs to Theodore, correct?" I replied, my brows knitted together as my eyes searched Sawyer's face for reassurance.
Sawyer nodded. "Absolutely, but it's almost like he knew we were coming. Everything was too...clean. Not a single scrap of evidence that could be traced back to him. Or Sergei for that matter."
The air suddenly turned icy cold as realization dawned upon me. Not only did this mean that Theodore was now aware that I was after him, but this also meant that we had lost our trump card.
I kept silent, trying to contain my disappointment. I blew a long trail of smoke out into the night sky, leaning heavily against the balustrade of the balcony. My eyes remained fixed on the city’s flickering skyline, wondering how it was possible.
──●◎●──
It had been a long, tough day at work, one I was so thankful to be done with.
With Christmas just around the corner, I braced myself for a stroll down memory lane, brimming with heartache and sorrow. This festive occasion was meant to remind me of the joyful Christmases we once enjoyed as a family. Instead, it served as a painful reminder of the tragedy we experienced during a similar holiday season. It was on that fateful day when my father was fatally shot while out with Noah to pick out our Christmas tree. Witnessing such a horrifying event had a lasting impact on Noah. Every year during this time, he would relive the trauma through horrific nightmares, causing him to be in a dark mood throughout the entire holiday.
Ever since, Noah and I never celebrated Christmas, as the mere thought of it made us both miserable.
It was a little after eleven, and Noah was sound asleep after our cosy movie night with Layla. I was relieved to have provided some much-needed distraction from the overwhelming holiday rush.
