Mason drummed his fingers on the mahogany table. Eve posted up by the door, loose but ready."Ramirez wants a sit-down. All seven families." Mason kept his voice flat.Sergei, a mountain in an expensive suit, leaned forward. "Last time families had such meeting, didn't make it home." His accent thick as molasses. "Was beautiful funeral though. Very expensive flowers."Sarah touched the fresh bandages at her neck. "Yeah, and those flowers ended up decorating five more graves before the month was out.""Different times," Thomas countered, cigarette smoke curling around his words. "Different players.""Same game though." Viktor's scarred hands splayed across blueprints of neutral territories. "Same rules. Same price for losing."Mason let that sink in. Outside, Chicago pretended to be honest while its real business happened in rooms like this."Boss." Sophia never looked up from her tablet. "Ramirez's movements last forty-eight hours. Three meetings with Ethan Langford. Two visits to Jud

"Wish I was." Eve pulled up her tablet, showing him the event page. "Noon at the Drake Hotel. Black tie, champagne brunch, silent auction - the whole nine yards. And you... Leo can't exactly ghost his own family shindig.""Christ." Mason's head spun. Friday's sit-down with Chicago's deadliest crime families, then Saturday glad-handing with the city's elite? "Talk about working both sides of the street.""Gets better." Eve scrolled names. Eve scrolled through the guest list. "Look who RSVPed."Mason's eyes went wide. "Ethan Langford.""Plus Olivia." Eve's voice softened. "Judge Martinez, Commissioner Burke - half of Ramirez's recent lunch dates."Mason pushed to his feet, his shoulder throbbing in time with his racing thoughts. He crossed to the window, watching his reflection ghosted against Chicago's skyline. In the glass, he saw both versions of himself - Mason Rivers, the nobody who'd lost everything, and Leo King, the man who owned this city's shadows."You know what this means, r

Next in his list. Burke.Mason flipped Burke's business card between his fingers. The edges had gone soft, worn down like the man's principles.Eve watched from her position, cataloging the minute changes in Mason's posture - the tightening around his eyes, the way his jaw worked.Burke's had his hand in Leo's pocket for years. Time to remind him who signs his real paychecks.Mason's phone blue glowed as he dialed. Three rings, then a gruff voice: "Burke.""Commissioner." Mason let ice coat the word. "Word is you broke bread with Ricardo Ramirez today. Must've been quite the conversation."Silence crackled across the line. Then: "Who is this?""Playing dumb doesn't suit you, James." Mason's voice dropped lower, dangerous. "Neither does betrayal.""King?" Burke's voice went wobbly, uncertainty bleeding through. "Look, that lunch wasn't what you think-""Stow it." Mason sliced through the excuses. "I want Carlos in my custody by sundown."Burke sucked air. "That's... complicated.""Unco

Ethan stiffened. "Matter with you? This is pure profit."Sophia traded a look with Sergei. "Then we'll make that call ourselves."Ethan's glance dropped to his watch. The bruise from Ramirez throbbed. He exhaled. "How about you make it fast."Outside, the L-train thundered overhead as Sophia punched in Mason's private number."Talk." Mason's voice cut through the train's clatter."Recording's solid. Got Ramirez, the payment structure-" Sophia dropped her voice. "Plus a bonus. Our friend wants the wife installed as Operations Director. Overseeing his remaining stake."Mason's laugh had teeth in it. "Perfect." The L-train screeched around a corner. "That's better than we originally planned. Having her in-house... that's poetry.""What about the media leak? The investigation?""New play. Give him everything - Ramirez's payment, his cut, the wife's position. Let him think he's won." Steel crept into Mason's voice over the train's screech. "Olivia under our thumb beats any scandal."Someti

Mason strolled up to Jake's apartment complex in a modest sedan - not the kind of ride Leo King would be caught dead in, but perfect for keeping a low profile. The box with him held a stack of comic books, medical journals for Sarah, and a tablet loaded with games for Tommy.Chicago's late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the crumbling concrete, highlighting every crack and water stain on the building's facade. The place looked even worse than Mason remembered. A constant reminder of how the other half lived - the half he used to belong to.The security door buzzed him in, its hinges protesting with a screech that made Mason wince. Jake's voice crackled through the ancient intercom: "Third floor's still working, brother. Elevator's about as reliable as campaign promises."Mason took the stairs two at a time, his footsteps echoing in the narrow stairwell. The smell of curry from 2B mixed with cleaning supplies from the super's closet. Some things never changed.Jake waited in his