“Evening, Romano.”

Matteo’s expression turned to ice.

“Dante Vescari.”

So this was the rival prince of Chicago’s bloodiest crime family.

Dante looked almost cheerful despite the violence surrounding him.

Expensive navy coat.

Movie-star grin.

Dead eyes.

“Funny thing,” Dante called out. “Your accountant worked for me longer than he worked for you.”

Sophie felt Matteo go perfectly still.

Dante shoved Chloe forward.

“Turns out little Chloe here stole the wrong documents.”

Chloe looked up wildly.

“I’m here,” Sophie shouted.

Dante laughed.

“Touching.”

Then he tossed a thick folder onto the warehouse floor.

Pages scattered.

Financial records.

Shipping manifests.

Bank transfers.

Sophie’s eyes widened.

The numbers connected instantly.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

Matteo looked at her sharply.

“What?”

She pointed at the papers.

“These aren’t theft records.”

Dante’s grin faded slightly.

“Careful.”

But Sophie was already seeing it.

Every transaction.

Every shipment.

Every fake loss.

Insurance fraud.

Massive insurance fraud.

Not millions.

Hundreds of millions.

And buried inside the paperwork was something far worse.

Federal officials.

Judges.

Police commanders.

Bribes woven through shell corporations like veins.

Chicago itself had been bought.

Dante’s voice sharpened.

“Your sister copied files she didn’t understand.”

Chloe shouted back, “I thought they were offshore account numbers!”

“You thought wrong.”

Matteo slowly descended the stairs.

Gun low at his side.

Controlled.

Terrifying.

“You framed me,” he said.

“No,” Dante replied. “I framed both of us.”

Rain thundered outside.

“The FBI raids your organization. Mine collapses in retaliation. Everyone dies. Meanwhile the money disappears offshore and nobody alive can testify.” Dante smiled coldly. “Chicago resets itself.”

Sophie suddenly understood the full scale of it.

This was never gang warfare.

It was liquidation.

A controlled demolition of two criminal empires.

And Chloe had accidentally stolen proof before the plan was complete.

Dante lifted his pistol toward Chloe’s head.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “loose ends are expensive.”

The gunshot came from somewhere behind Sophie.

Dante jerked backward.

Blood exploded across his coat.

Chaos erupted instantly.

Leo had fired.

Men screamed.

Bullets shredded crates.

And Sophie ran straight into the crossfire.

Toward her sister.

Sophie hit the concrete hard beside Chloe as bullets tore through the loading dock behind them.

“Are you insane?” Chloe yelled.

“Frequently,” Sophie snapped while cutting the zip ties against a broken metal edge.

Matteo’s men exchanged gunfire with Vescari soldiers across the warehouse.

Sparks flew from steel beams.

Windows burst outward.

Then everything changed.

A deep mechanical rumble echoed outside.

Headlights flooded the loading bays.

Black SUVs.

Dozens.

Every gun in the warehouse stopped.

Federal agents stormed through the doors in armored vests.

“FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Panic detonated.

Some men ran.

Others fired.

The warehouse erupted into complete madness.

Sophie grabbed Chloe and dragged her behind a forklift while agents and mob soldiers exchanged gunfire through smoke and shattered glass.

“How did they find this place?” Chloe gasped.

Then Sophie saw Matteo.

Standing perfectly still.

Weapon lowered.

Watching the agents enter.

Like he had expected them.

Their eyes met across the warehouse.

And Sophie understood.

Matteo Romano had called them.

Not tonight.

Earlier.

Maybe days earlier.

Maybe the moment he realized Anthony Vescari had betrayed him.

Matteo moved toward them through the chaos.

Leo grabbed his arm.

“Boss, we gotta go!”

“No,” Matteo said.

Leo stared at him in disbelief.

“They’ll bury you alive.”

Matteo looked toward Sophie.

“Probably.”

That single word carried years of exhaustion.

Years of violence.

Years of surviving long enough to stop recognizing yourself.

Dante Vescari, bleeding heavily near the loading docks, started laughing.