Chapter 5 - Unmasking the Past
We dragged the two unconscious assassins down to the reinforced basement panic room while Marcus’s body was secured in a private holding sector. The mansion was officially on lockdown, the outer perimeter defenses armed with lethal countermeasures, and my remaining captains notified that the estate had been compromised.
Under the harsh fluorescent light of the panic room, Evelyn stripped the tactical helmet off the first intruder.
I sucked in a sharp breath. Beneath the black visor was a young man no older than twenty-five, with a jagged scar running down his jawline and the exact same raven-and-scale tattoo inked onto his inner wrist that Evelyn wore on her silver pendant.
“Recognize him?” I asked Evelyn, keeping my gun trained on the captive.
“His name is Miller,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping into a harsh whisper. “He was one of the junior trainees under my command back in Prague, before the Vanguard split. Viktor Rostov bought out half our leadership, purged the loyalists, and turned the remaining ghosts into corporate hit squads.”
Miller groaned, his eyes fluttering open. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor, looked up at Evelyn, and let out a dark, mocking laugh.
“Evelyn Shaw... or should I call you Commander Vance?” Miller sneered, coughing wetly. “The great traitor who ran away to hide behind a Chicago mobster’s coattails. Rostov sends his regards, Commander. He knows about the girl. He knows she’s the key to your little insurance policy.”
I stepped forward, grabbing Miller by the collar of his tactical vest and slamming him back against the concrete wall. “Mention my daughter again and I’ll feed you to the river rats, you understand me?”
Miller just grinned, blood staining his teeth. “You can’t protect her, Caruso. You think your little mansion in Lake Forest is a fortress? Rostov has half the city police payroll in his pocket and a missile strike’s worth of heavy ordnance parked three miles away. He wants the girl, and he wants the ledger.”
“What ledger?” I demanded.
Miller’s eyes shifted past me to Evelyn. “Ask her. She’s the one who stole the master encryption keys when she burned the Prague safehouse to the ground.”
I slowly turned to look at Evelyn. The air in the room grew thick, heavy with unspoken betrayals and deadly secrets.
“Is that why you came here?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “To use my house as a bunker while you hid from your past?”
Evelyn didn’t flinch away from my gaze. She met my eyes with a fierce, unwavering dignity. “When I found out Rostov was hunting down the surviving bloodlines of the old syndicate leaders to consolidate total control over the global underground, I looked for the safest place on earth to hide the data key that can take him down. And the only man crazy enough, wealthy enough, and dangerous enough to protect it was Vincent Caruso.”
“You used us,” I said, the fury rising in my throat.
“I saved you,” Evelyn corrected sharply. “Because whether you like it or not, Vincent, Rostov’s war was coming to your doorstep the moment he found out you had a daughter who could inherit your empire. I just brought the weapons to fight back.”
Grace stood quietly by the corner of the room, listening to every word. Her blind eyes turned toward Evelyn, then toward me.
“He’s lying about one thing, Dad,” Grace said softly.
We both looked at her.
“Who, sweetie?” I asked gently.
“The man on the floor,” Grace said, tilting her head. “His pulse didn't spike when he talked about Rostov’s army. It spiked when he mentioned the ledger. He’s not here for Rostov. He’s here for a bounty on Evelyn’s head. Rostov doesn't even know we’re the primary target—she is.”
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Miller’s face went instantly pale.
Evelyn stared at Grace in stunned silence, a slow, appreciative smile breaking through the grim lines of her face. “Brilliant,” Evelyn whispered. “Absolutely brilliant.”
