Eddie fell to his knees.

Men emerged from the shadows.

Mason came from the left, weapon raised. Two others moved from behind a loading dock. Another blocked the street.

And Roman DeLuca walked out of the mist.

No rush.

No panic.

Only purpose.

The gunman reached toward his ankle.

Roman fired once into the pavement beside his hand.

The man froze.

“Try again,” Roman said, “and the next one removes your ability to make decisions.”

The gunman slowly lifted his bleeding hands.

Eddie sobbed.

“Roman, please. Please. They had my girls.”

Roman did not look at him yet.

His attention remained on the gunman.

“Who sent you?”

The gunman spat blood.

“You think this is about Kovac?”

Roman’s eyes narrowed.

Ava’s breath caught.

Mason moved closer.

The gunman smiled, ugly and wet.

“You don’t even know whose life she saved.”

Roman went still.

Ava looked at him.

The gunman laughed once.

“She was always the target.”

The words struck harder than bullets.

Roman’s head turned slowly toward her.

The gunman continued, enjoying every second.

“DeLuca was cover. Loud target. Big name. Easy story. Mafia boss shot in restaurant. Waitress dies in crossfire. Police chase ghosts. Everyone looks at him, nobody looks at her.”

Ava felt the ground tilt.

Eddie’s sobbing stopped.

Roman’s voice was quiet.

“Explain.”

The gunman looked at Roman.

“Ask her mother.”

Ava’s heart dropped so violently she almost staggered.

“My mother is dead.”

“Yes,” the gunman said. “That was the first mistake. She had time to hide things before she died.”

Roman looked at Mason.

“Take him alive.”

Mason nodded.

The gunman’s smile faltered.

Roman stepped toward him.

“Very alive.”

For the first time, fear entered the gunman’s face.

As Roman’s men dragged him away, Ava turned on Eddie.

“What did they tell you?”

Eddie shook his head, crying again.

“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know about your mother. They said DeLuca had to die and you were a witness. They said if I helped, my girls would be safe.”

Ava’s voice went cold.

“You brought me to him.”

“You said kid.”

He flinched.

“You called me kid while delivering me to a man with a gun.”

Eddie lowered his forehead to the wet pavement.

Roman came to stand beside her.

In the bright floodlights, he looked carved from shadow.

“He betrayed both of us,” Roman said.

Ava stared at Eddie.

She thought of his daughters. She thought of table seven. She thought of her mother, who had once said mercy without truth was just weakness wearing perfume.

“Does he know anything useful?” Ava asked.

Roman’s gaze shifted to her.

“Then use that.”

Eddie looked up, hope and terror tangled on his face.

“But don’t kill him,” Ava said.

Mason turned slightly.

Roman studied her.

“This is not a courtroom.”

“He would have let you die.”

“And still?”

Ava looked at Eddie.

“I want his daughters to have a father who has to answer their questions someday.”

Roman said nothing for a long moment.

Then he nodded once.

“Mason. Take Eddie somewhere safe. Separate from the others. He talks about every debt, every call, every name, every threat. Then he leaves Illinois.”

Eddie sagged with relief.

Roman crouched in front of him.

“But if you ever contact the men who used your fear, if you gamble again, if you come near Ava Hart, if you breathe in the direction of my business without permission, your daughters will still have a father. They’ll just have to visit him through glass. Do you understand?”

Eddie choked, “Yes.”

Roman stood.

Ava should have felt victory.

Instead, she felt the old world breaking under her feet.

Her mother.

The gunman had said ask her mother.

In the SUV, she sat beside Roman but felt miles away from him. Chicago slid past in wet black and yellow streaks.

Roman made several calls.