A struggling waitress with nothing left to lose found herself standing between three armed attackers and a terrified grandmother shielding her little granddaughter on a deserted Chicago street

By 3:00 AM, the estate was secure.

Salvatore and his cleanup crew had quietly removed the intruders, scrubbing the foyer marble until it shone like a mirror. The local police wouldn't be called; in Dante’s world, trash was taken out and disposed of without bureaucratic paperwork.

In the subterranean command bunker beneath the mansion—a reinforced steel-and-concrete room filled with bank monitors and server racks—Dante stood before a massive digital map of Chicago.

Viktor Vance’s warehouse on the Indiana border was highlighted in pulsing red.

"He sent them because he knew he was losing ground," Salvatore reported, standing beside the desk. "Word got out that the South Side hit failed because of a waitress. Viktor’s crew is fractured. If we hit the warehouse now, we wrap up the loose ends once and for all."

Dante didn't answer immediately. He looked over his shoulder.

Brielle sat on a leather sofa in the corner of the bunker, nursing a cup of black coffee Salvatore had brought her. She looked tired, but the haunted, hunted look in her eyes was completely gone. For the first time in eleven years, the ghosts were dead.

Dante walked over, standing before her. "I have to leave for a few hours. Business that needs concluding."

Brielle looked up at him, her pale blue eyes searching his face. "Be careful."

"Always," Dante said softly. He reached down, taking her uninjured hand in his. "When I get back... we're going to drive up to Evanston. To a small coffee shop near the Loyola campus."

Brielle’s breath caught. "Maya?"

"Maya," Dante confirmed with a faint smile. "It's time your sister got her older sister back."

Before Dante could turn away, Brielle stood up. She didn't hesitate this time. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the warm crook of his shoulder, holding him with a fierce, desperate gratitude.