CHAPTER 2:The Man Who Brought Coffee Instead of Threats
The knock came again.
Three slow taps.
No impatience.
No force.
I tightened my grip on the jeweler's shears before unlocking the door.
Standing outside was Luca DeSantis.
For ten years, Chicago whispered his name with equal parts respect and fear.
He was Alessandro Romano's shadow.
The man who fixed problems before they became scandals.
Yet this morning he looked... tired.
He held out a cup of coffee.
"Dark. No sugar."
Exactly the way I liked it.
"I didn't come to convince you to return," he said quietly.
"I came because someone is trying to kill you."
The words landed harder than any slap.
I stared at him.
He continued.
"Camila Marino isn't Alessandro's mistress."
Silence.
"She's an undercover financial investigator."
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it sounded impossible.
Luca placed a thick envelope on my workbench.
Inside were photographs.
Wire transfers.
Medical reports.
Court documents.
Every page connected one name.
Ruggero Romano.
For years he had stolen millions from the Romano empire while quietly funding organized crime through shell companies.
Anyone who discovered the truth disappeared.
Then I found the final photograph.
Camila.
Bruised.
Handcuffed.
Being forced into Alessandro's car.
"He brought her to your birthday," Luca said softly, "because it was the only place Ruggero wouldn't dare shoot her."
My knees nearly gave out.
Everything I thought I understood...
Was wrong.
Before I could ask another question, Luca's phone rang.
He answered.
His face drained of color.
"They found Teresa."
He looked at me.
May you like
"She's dead."
Everything had just become a war.
