Baiting the Wolf

Midtown always felt different at night.

Declan stood by the freight terminal's loading dock, hands tucked into his coat pockets. The air smelled faintly of gasoline and rain, the glow from the streetlights painting the cracked pavement in dull orange hues.

Behind him, Dwan leaned against the side of a Connolly-owned truck, smoking in silence. A few of Declan's men patrolled the perimeter, blending into the alley shadows like ghosts.

"Feels quiet," Dwan muttered, exhaling smoke. "Too quiet."

Declan didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the warehouse across the street—one of the "ghost properties" Liam had marked on the map.

"Ferraro's men will come," Declan said eventually.

"They always do."

Dwan grunted.

"And what's the plan when they do? Let them take the place?"

Declan glanced at him.

"That's the idea."

Dwan's brows lifted slightly.

"You sure Liam's not running this thing?"

Declan smirked faintly.

"Feels like it, doesn't it?"

Connolly Estate – Liam's Room (Hours Earlier)

Liam knelt on the floor, sketching over his father's Midtown map with a red marker.

"Ghost properties?" Declan had asked, standing over him.

"Dad called them that," Liam explained, drawing careful circles around three warehouses near the terminal.

"They're places that look important but aren't. It's where he'd leave fake cargo to distract people like Ferraro."

Declan crouched beside him, arms resting on his knees.

"And Ferraro falls for this?"

Liam nodded confidently.

"Dad used it twice. Ferraro likes to take things that look easy. It makes him feel smart."

Declan chuckled softly, ruffling Liam's hair.

"And what about the terminal? Won't Ferraro figure out we're moving on it?"

Liam shrugged.

"Not if you make the ghost warehouses look real enough."

Back at the Terminal – Present

The faint crunch of tires pulled Declan's attention to the alley entrance.

A black SUV rolled to a stop at the curb, headlights flicking off.

"Here we go," Dwan murmured.

Ferraro's men stepped out, four of them.

Declan recognized the man in front—Vincent Moretti, Ferraro's second cousin and usual errand boy.

Moretti adjusted his coat, eyes flicking toward the empty warehouse.

He didn't see Declan right away, too busy signaling for his men to move toward the side entrance.

Declan stepped out of the shadows.

"You're early, Vincent."

Moretti froze, head snapping toward him. His hand inched toward his belt, where a gun no doubt waited.

"Relax," Declan said calmly. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't be standing here talking to you."

Moretti frowned, lowering his hand.

"We're just here to inspect the property. Word is Connolly Holdings is stretched thin."

Declan smirked.

"Funny, I didn't put Midtown up for sale."

Moretti took a step forward, his gaze narrowing.

"Ferraro doesn't need your permission to expand."

Declan shrugged, eyes drifting toward the warehouse.

"Fine. Take it."

Moretti hesitated.

"What?"

"Go ahead," Declan said, gesturing lazily. "The place is yours. I'll even have my men leave the keys under the mat."

Moretti's suspicion flickered across his face, but greed won out.

"Ferraro will remember this."

Declan smiled faintly.

"I'm sure he will."

Moretti lingered for another breath, then signaled his men to move in.

Dwan's eyes followed them carefully, waiting until the last of Ferraro's men disappeared inside.

"You sure about this?" Dwan asked under his breath.

"Positive," Declan replied, his tone light.

They didn't have to wait long.

Ten minutes later, Moretti's voice echoed from inside the warehouse.

"Where the hell is everything?!"

Dwan chuckled, tossing his cigarette into the gutter.

"I love it when a plan comes together."

Connolly Estate – The Next Morning

Liam sat at the kitchen table, carefully buttering his toast when Declan walked in.

"It worked," Declan said simply, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge.

Liam grinned, not looking up.

"I told you Ferraro likes to feel smart."

Declan sat across from him, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You planned that whole thing without ever leaving the house."

Liam shrugged, taking a bite of toast.

"Dad always said the best moves happen before anyone realizes you made them."

Declan watched him carefully, the faintest flicker of something uneasy crossing his mind.

"You know," Declan said slowly, "most kids your age are worried about math homework. Not running Midtown syndicate operations."

Liam's green eyes sparkled faintly over his glass of milk.

"Most kids don't own three casinos."

Declan nearly choked on his orange juice.

Dwan walked in just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation, pausing as he poured his coffee.

"What did I miss?"

Declan shook his head, wiping his mouth.

"Apparently, my little brother's already halfway to taking over the city."

Liam set his glass down, tilting his head.

"Not halfway. But maybe a third."

Dwan laughed loudly, clapping Liam on the shoulder.

"This kid's going to give Ferraro nightmares."

Declan exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah," he muttered, half to himself. "I'm starting to realize that."