Chapter 15 - The Lowest Point
We gave the evidence to federal authorities.
Not all of it.
Enough.
Rebecca contacted a federal prosecutor she trusted.
Copies went to three separate locations.
If Victor killed us, SAINT would still fall.
That should have made me feel safe.
It didn’t.
At nine forty, Dante received a message from one of his captains.
Three Moretti businesses had been raided.
At ten fifteen, two longtime allies switched sides.
At ten forty, Victor released financial records making Dante appear responsible for decades of corruption.
By eleven, every television station in Chicago was calling Dante a fugitive.
Victor had prepared for this.
He had police.
Judges.
Reporters.
Politicians.
People inside Dante’s own organization.
SAINT was not one enemy.
It was a city hiding behind Victor Hale.
Dante stood in the safe house while his empire disappeared phone call by phone call.
“I spent forty years building something.”
He looked at the dark screen.
“He destroyed it in four hours.”
I walked toward him.
“Maybe what he destroyed needed to disappear.”
He looked at me sharply.
I almost apologized.
Then I didn’t.
“I’m not saying you’re Victor.”
“I’ve done things.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know all of them.”
“No.”
I held his gaze.
“But I know what you do next matters more than what you call yourself.”
His expression softened.
Then the windows exploded.
Gunfire tore through the room.
Dante threw me down.
Anna screamed.
Smoke filled the hallway.
Men entered from both sides.
Someone had betrayed the safe house.
Dante was hit.
He fell beside me.
Blood spread across his shirt.
“No.”
I pressed both hands against the wound.
“Dante.”
His eyes stayed open.
“Go.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Emily.”
For the first time, he sounded afraid.
Not for himself.
For me.
Men dragged Anna toward the hallway.
I grabbed Dante’s gun.
A shot cracked.
Then another.
Before I could fire, someone struck me from behind.
The room disappeared.
When I opened my eyes, my hands were tied.
Victor Hale sat across from me.
Nolan stood beside him.
And through a glass wall behind them, Gabriel Moretti was strapped to a hospital bed.
Victor smiled.
May you like
“Welcome to Saint.”
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