A hundred and eighty-seven people watched Chicago’s most feared mafia boss roll backward into twelve feet of freezing water—and not one of them screamed.

The realization washed over me like ice water. We were hunting the exact same ghost.

"Who?" I asked, leaning over the desk. "Who gave the order to let you drown?"

"There are only three people in the Vescari syndicate with enough authority to command my entire security detail to stand down," Julian explained, turning his tablet toward me.

Three photos appeared on the screen.

"First: Victoria Vescari, my sister. She controls our real estate holdings and has spent the last two years convincing our board of directors that a leader in a wheelchair is bad for business."

"Second: Dominic Vescari, my uncle. He commands our legacy enforcement crews in West Chicago and believes the old ways of violence are better than my modern corporate restructuring."

"Third: Leo Vescari, my cousin. He manages our offshore bank accounts and shipping manifests. The very manifests your brother died trying to expose."

I looked at the three faces on the screen. "Victoria looked disappointed when I pulled you out of the water today. Not shocked. Disappointed."

"Victoria is ambitious, but she lacks the stomach for open treason," Julian analyzed coolly. "Dominic has the stomach for treason, but he lacks the intellect to tamper with a wheelchair's hydraulic brake cables. That leaves Leo."

Suddenly, three loud knocks sounded on the study door.

Marco stepped into the room, his face dark. "Don Julian. Uncle Dominic and Victoria are downstairs in the grand parlor. They are demanding an emergency meeting of the Capo Council for tomorrow morning. They claim your... 'mental state' after the incident renders you unfit to command."

Julian let out a cold, dry chuckle. "They move quickly when their primary plan fails."

He looked at me, a sharp, brilliant light flashing in his dark eyes.

"Clara," Julian said, his voice dropping into a thrilling tone. "You wanted to find your brother's killer. You wanted access to my encrypted shipping logs."

"Yes," I replied nervously.

"I will give you full administrative access to every file in my private server," Julian offered, leaning closer. "I will give you my brotherly protection, immunity from my family, and one million dollars in clean funds. In exchange... you remain my personal assistant. You stay by my side during tomorrow's council meeting. And you act as my eyes and ears inside this house."

I looked at his silver wheelchair, then at his powerful, dark eyes. "Why do you need me?"

"Because every single person who shares my blood wants me dead," Julian said softly, reaching out his hand toward mine. "And you are the only person in Chicago who proved today that you would dive into the dark to keep me breathing."