Chapter 6 - CELESTE’S INVITATION
Evelyn wanted to go straight to the address.
Lorenzo stopped her.
“That’s exactly what they expect.”
“My father could be there.”
“Or ten men with rifles.”
“So?”
“So dead daughters don’t rescue fathers.”
She shoved him.
“Don’t talk to me like you care.”
His face tightened.
“I care whether you survive.”
“Why?”
He had no quick answer.
That bothered her more than one would have.
Before either spoke again, Evelyn’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Lorenzo said, “Don’t.”
She answered.
“Hello?”
Celeste Vane laughed softly.
“Evelyn.”
Evelyn’s blood boiled.
“You killed Gilbert.”
“No. Gilbert killed Gilbert when he grew a conscience.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
Lorenzo reached for the phone.
Evelyn stepped away.
“What do you want?”
“What your father stole.”
“I don’t know where it is.”
“Yes, you do. You just haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Then go to hell.”
Celeste sighed.
“You know, Lorenzo’s mother used to say the same thing.”
Evelyn glanced at him.
His eyes changed.
Celeste continued.
“Ask him how she died.”
Lorenzo took the phone.
“You want me, Celeste? Come get me.”
“I already had you.”
“You missed.”
“No, darling. I redirected you.”
Her voice turned cold.
“Hand me Evelyn and I’ll let you keep what’s left of your city.”
Lorenzo smiled without humor.
“You know me better than that.”
“I used to think I did.”
The call ended.
Evelyn stared at him.
“Your mother?”
“Later.”
“No more later.”
Lorenzo paced once.
“My mother found out my father and Salvatore were building the Black Spade network with the Vanes.”
“And?”
“She wanted out.”
“What happened?”
“Her car went into the lake.”
Evelyn’s anger faded.
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“You think your father killed her?”
“I know he did.”
The room went quiet.
For the first time, Evelyn didn’t see Chicago’s mafia boss.
She saw a sixteen-year-old kid who learned that blood didn’t mean safety.
Then tires screeched outside.
Lorenzo moved to the window.
“Get down.”
Police cars surrounded the building.
Evelyn almost felt relief.
Then Lorenzo swore.
“What?”
“Those aren’t city units.”
“They literally say Chicago Police.”
“Those men work for Salvatore.”
A loudspeaker crackled.
“Lorenzo Moretti. Exit the building unarmed.”
Lorenzo checked his magazine.
Evelyn stared at him.
“You’re not shooting cops.”
“They’re not here to arrest us.”
A window shattered.
A tear gas canister rolled across the floor.
Evelyn coughed.
Everything turned white.
Someone crashed through the back door.
Hands grabbed her.
“LORENZO!”
She kicked.
Bit.
Fought.
A hood dropped over her head.
Then darkness.
When the hood came off, Evelyn was tied to a chair.
Celeste sat across from her.
Emerald dress gone.
Black pants.
White blouse.
Calm smile.
“Welcome.”
Evelyn spat at her.
Celeste wiped her cheek.
“That was rude.”
“You killed my manager.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to kill Lorenzo.”
“Yes.”
“You’re trying to kill me.”
Celeste tilted her head.
“Actually, Evelyn…”
She placed a photograph on the table.
Daniel Carter.
Older.
Gray-haired.
May you like
Alive.
“…you’re the only person in Chicago I absolutely need breathing.”
