Chapter 6 - THE GHOST OF THE OBSIDIAN
The safe house wasn’t a bunker; it was a sprawling, unfinished penthouse directly above The Obsidian restaurant.
"They'll never look for us above the crime scene," Lorenzo explained as he led them through a service corridor on the 40th floor. The space was all exposed beams, plastic sheeting, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering Chicago skyline.
Evelyn set Leo down on a plush sofa that looked wildly out of place amidst the construction dust. The boy, exhausted, fell asleep almost instantly.
"I need to make calls," Lorenzo said, stripping off his ruined jacket. His white dress shirt was stained with soot. "I need to rally the Commission before my uncle calls a vote to install Celeste as the head of the families."
"Without proof, they won't believe you," Evelyn said, pacing the room. "You said my dad left ledgers."
"The key opens a lockbox at First Continental," Lorenzo said, rubbing his temples. "But the bank opens at 9 AM. We don't have that long. Carmine will strike before dawn."
Evelyn stopped pacing. She looked at Lorenzo, then out the window down at the river. A memory clicked into place.
"My first week at The Obsidian," she said slowly. "I was cleaning the private dining room. The one your uncle uses."
Lorenzo looked up, his attention fully captured.
"He had a contractor in there," Evelyn continued, her confidence growing. "They were arguing about a false panel in the wainscoting. The contractor said it wasn't deep enough for a safe. Your uncle said it only needed to be deep enough for a black leather book."
Lorenzo’s eyes widened. "Carmine's personal ledger. He keeps his own blackmail material there."
"I know exactly which panel it is," Evelyn said.
"It's suicide," Lorenzo said, stepping toward her. "The restaurant below is a crime scene. It's swarming with police—and probably my uncle's men in uniform."
"I spent nine months being invisible in that restaurant, Lorenzo," Evelyn said, her voice fierce. She looked at her sleeping son. "They threatened my boy. They killed my father. I'm not running anymore."
Lorenzo stared at her, seeing the waitress for what she truly was—a survivor. A fighter.
"We go together," he said.
They left Leo with Lorenzo’s sole remaining loyal guard—a grizzled old enforcer named Dante who guarded the penthouse door.
Using the maintenance shafts, they bypassed the police tape and dropped into the VIP wing of The Obsidian. The smell of smoke and copper still hung heavy in the air.
They slipped into the private dining room. Evelyn ran her hands along the dark wood paneling, counting from the left corner. One, two, three. She pressed hard against the fourth panel. A soft click echoed in the silent room.
The wood popped open, revealing a dark recess. Evelyn reached in and pulled out a thick, black leather book.
"Got it," she whispered, handing it to Lorenzo.
Before he could open it, the heavy oak door to the dining room swung open.
"I told you they'd come for the book," a silky, mocking voice echoed in the darkness.
May you like
The lights flipped on, blinding them. Standing in the doorway, flanked by four heavily armed men, was Celeste Vane. She held a suppressed pistol, aimed directly at Evelyn’s chest.
"Hello, waitress," Celeste purred. "It seems you've lived past your expiration date."
