"Mafia Boss Saved His Mistress While His Pregnant Wife Bled—By Dawn, She Vanished With Their Son

The private Gulfstream touched down on the auxiliary runway of Gary/Chicago International Airport under the cover of a dense, midnight fog.

There were no limousines. There were no flashing sirens.

Waiting on the dark tarmac were three armored black Suburbans, manned by twelve elite private security operators wearing the insignia of the Thorne Executive Protection Group—men who had served with Julian’s family for twenty years and owed zero allegiance to the Chicago Commission.

I stepped down the air stairs into the damp, cold autumn air of the Midwest.

I wore a tailored black wool trench coat cut by an Italian master, dark leather gloves, and an ivory cashmere scarf. My hair was pulled back into a sleek, severe chignon, and on my left hand, the four-carat Thorne diamond ring and the sapphires caught the distant yellow runway lights like an unquenchable flame.

Leo remained safely in Switzerland, guarded by fifty armed Swiss security contractors and Julian’s mother in the mountain fortress.

This journey was not for my son.

This journey was to bury the ghost of his father once and for all.

Julian stepped down behind me, wearing a bespoke charcoal three-piece suit, an unbuttoned overcoat draped across his broad shoulders, holding an encrypted titanium briefcase containing the final financial guillotine for the Caruso family.

"The meeting is set for two o'clock," Julian said, checking his silver pocket watch. "The Chicago Athletic Association. The private library on the eighth floor."

"Is the Commission attending?" I asked, sliding into the rear passenger seat of the lead vehicle.

"All five families," Julian replied, climbing in beside me, pulling the heavy armored door shut with an airtight, concussive thud. "Dominic summoned them to demand an emergency war levy to finance his legal defense and reclaim the terminals. He thinks he’s walking into a council of allies."

A cold, razor-sharp smile touched my lips as the convoy accelerated into the midnight fog, heading north toward the glittering, corrupt skyline of the Loop.