Chapter 16 - The True Endgame
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They stepped out into the freezing Chicago night. The black armored Sentinel was waiting exactly where they had left it, the engine purring softly in the cold air.
Gabriel opened the heavy rear door for her, and Evelyn slid into the warm, leather interior. Gabriel climbed in beside her, tapping the glass to signal the driver. The SUV pulled seamlessly into the city traffic, leaving the Palmer House and the shattered remnants of Dominic Vale behind.
Evelyn leaned her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes.
“You played it perfectly,” Gabriel said, pouring two fresh glasses of whiskey. He handed her one. “He didn't see it coming until the blade was already in his ribs. Your father would have been proud.”
“My father would have killed him years ago,” Evelyn murmured, taking a slow sip of the burning liquid. “He never had the patience for long games.”
“Patience is what separates the survivors from the statistics,” Gabriel agreed, leaning back and watching her closely. His amber eyes were calculating, stripping away the layers of the events that had just unfolded. “So, the middleman is removed. The holdings are secured under your name. The Chicago families are terrified into submission.”
“Yes,” Evelyn said, opening her eyes to look at the passing city lights.
“Which brings me to my question,” Gabriel continued, his tone shifting from supportive ally to dangerous business partner. “You didn't need me to activate the fail-safe, Evelyn. You didn't need me to freeze his accounts or take his keys. You could have done that with a phone call to Geneva. So why did you call me? Why did you bring the Shadow Bank to Chicago?”
Evelyn turned her head slowly, meeting Gabriel’s piercing gaze. She didn't flinch under the weight of his scrutiny.
“Because Dominic was just a parasite,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping into a register of pure, cold ambition. “Taking him down was housekeeping. I needed you here because Chicago is too small.”
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Gabriel’s eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features. “Too small?”
“Vale Holdings dominates the Midwest,” Evelyn explained, setting her whiskey glass down in the console. “But the East Coast families are vulnerable. The Russians in New York are bleeding money, and the Italians are fighting a civil war over the docks. The national syndicate is fractured.”
