"The woman engaged to Chicago’s most feared crime boss kicked me in the ribs because I refused to let a dying dog be thrown into an alley. She laughed while forty powerful people watched me curl around him on the floor, certain no one in that room would dare challenge her. What she didn’t know was that the dog belonged to the one man she should never have crossed—and he was already walking through the door.

Alderman Vane’s face turned purple with rage as Julian and I glided into the room. Dominic Moretti’s eyes narrowed, his hands sliding into his pockets.

“Croft,” Alderman Vane barked, stepping forward to block our path. “You have some nerve showing your face here after what you did to my daughter! And bringing this... this gutter trash into a dignified room—"

“Careful, Alderman,” Julian cut in, his voice ringing with a deadly calm that echoed through the silent ballroom. “Every microphone in this room is live. I wouldn't say anything you’ll regret during your corruption trial.”

Vane laughed nervously. “What trial? You’ve lost your mind, Croft!”

Julian signaled to Marcus, who raised a remote. Suddenly, the large projector screens behind the main stage—which were supposed to display the Vane family’s campaign videos—flickered to life.

Instead of campaign footage, financial ledgers, wiretap audio files, and bank records filled the screens.

A recorded voice boomed through the speakers—it was Alderman Vane’s voice, talking clearly to Dominic Moretti.

“Once Celeste marries Croft, we’ll poison the dog, frame Julian’s internal circle, and take over the port terminals. Just like we handled his brother Samuel.”

Gasps erupted across the room. Celeste turned deathly pale, looking frantically around the room as guests backed away from her as if she were contagious.

“That’s a fake! It’s AI!” Alderman Vane shouted, sweating profusely.

“The Federal Bureau of Investigation doesn't use fake audio, Alderman,” Julian said smoothly, as the heavy doors at the back of the room burst open.

A dozen federal agents in tactical vests poured into the room, led by a lead prosecutor.

“Alderman Arthur Vane, Celeste Vane, Dominic Moretti,” the lead agent announced loudly. “You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, racketeering, and federal harbor fraud.”

Celeste began to scream as steel handcuffs clicked around her manicured wrists. As the agents dragged her past us, she looked at me, her eyes filled with tears of rage and defeat.