Five Minutes to Midnight

The Oak Brook safehouse was less of a house and more of an impenetrable limestone fortress tucked behind rolling acres of private timberland.

Inside, high-tech security monitors hummed quietly, displaying live feeds of the perimeter gates, wooded approaches, and subterranean hallways.

Lorenzo led Evelyn into a spacious, modern master suite on the second floor.

“Rest,” Lorenzo told her, pausing at the doorway. “Tomorrow morning, my security chief, Viktor, will brief you on your new protocols. Don't leave this floor.”

“Mr. Moretti,” Evelyn called out as he turned to leave.

He stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“You said there’s a leak in your inner circle,” she said, remembering the terrified look on Celeste’s face before she was dragged away. “Celeste mentioned her brother Marcus. But how did Marcus know your exact schedule at The Obsidian? How did he know which table we’d be at, and when?”

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed slightly. A cold, dangerous realization dawned in his features.

“Table Four was a private reservation,” Lorenzo muttered, more to himself than to her. “Booked only through my executive secretary, Thomas.”

“Thomas?” Evelyn repeated.

“Thomas has been with my family for twelve years,” Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into a chilling register. “Which means either he’s the best actor in Chicago, or the rot goes deeper than I thought.”

“If you confront him directly, he’ll run, or he’ll tip off Marcus before you can corner him,” Evelyn pointed out, her gambling-addict father’s voice echoing in her head—*never show your hand until the river card drops.*

Lorenzo stared at her, a strange, appreciative spark flickering in his dark eyes. “And how would you handle it, Ms. Carter?”

“Don't confront him,” Evelyn said steadily. “Set a trap of your own. Feed him a fake piece of intelligence—say, a high-stakes cash transfer at the downtown warehouse tomorrow afternoon. See who shows up to collect.”

For three seconds, the room was dead silent.

Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across Lorenzo Moretti’s face—a smile that made him look terrifyingly handsome, and entirely lethal.