Chapter 2 The Walls Have Ears

Midnight, The West Wing Suite

The moonlight slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating every inch of Elena's suite in chilly silver. The city lights of Chicago sparkled below like a field of falling stars. But Elena saw only the darkness, the fortress beyond the glass, the bulletproof walls, and the echo of Dante's words ringing in her mind: Be cautious what you wish for, Mrs. Callahan.

She approached the sleek black minibar, unbuttoning her gown to pour a glass of red. The wine tasted like iron, bitter, forceful, and necessary. She breathed the aroma, letting its tang ground her.

There was knocking on the door.

Her breath stuttered.

"Miss?

She opened it to find Esme, standing flawlessly tall, face inscrutable.

"What is it?

"Dinner with Mr. Callahan at 1:00 A.M. in the private lounge. He insisted.

A cold traveled down Elena's spine. You don't send me a guard you don't trust. Yes, Dante trusted Esme, a Phoenix-level operator and ex-MI6. She'd survived more conspiracies than the whole Callahan bloodline combined.

She brushed down her gown. "Fine. Notify Luca that the guard team rotates every fifteen minutes, and we will be eating rare steak.

Esme's lips stiffened. "Understood.

With a quiet click, she closed the door.

1 A.M., Callahan Private Lounge

The lounge was warm and dim, filled with low leather couches, crystal decanters, and a wall of black books, the ledger of every important operation under Dante's direction.

He sat behind a big desk, one knee crossed over the other, elbow resting on the armrest. Esme stood at attention at the door. Luca's glass hand rested lightly on a revolver at his ankle.

"Elena, Dante whispered, voice soft as silk and sharp as glass. "Thank you for coming.

"I wasn't sure if I'd be inclined to eat.

He handed a platter across to her, with rare steak and asparagus arranged in exact rows.

"You need fuel, Mrs. Callahan.

She toyed with her fork. "Why now?

He leaned forward. "You're here. The world knows. Syndicate soldiers are monitoring. Bodies have already been taken to your father's estate.

That admission smacked her in the chest, already? She put down her fork and locked eyes with him.

"How bad?

He turned and motioned. The wall planted with speakers crackled.

A voice reproduced, with profound distortion:

"You thought your little wedding gave you power. Tonight, your husband's weakness will drown you all in ashes.

He halted it, cut the volume.

"Elena, they're testing us. But this went beyond a warning.

He tapped the desk.

"Yesterday, two of your father's lieutenants died in separate drive-by shootings. Ruinous shrapnel collapsed half of the west wing.

She swallowed hard, tasting bile. Part of the mansion burned. And since she wedded Dante, she lost faithful warriors, or maybe, because of her, he lost them.

The room was silent.

"Dinner is canceled, " Dante replied softly. "Unless you'd like to move it upstairs.

Elena rubbed her temples. "Headaches make me unpopular.

He reached for decent wine instead. "Drink with me.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Deal?

She nodded.

He poured two cups.

"To new alliances, he whispered.

She raised her glass, noting the strain coming from him.

"To survive, she said.

2 A.M., War Room, Underground Levels

Luca paced behind banks of monitors and workstations.

Security footage: a sharpshooter on a rooftop across from the De Luca mansion. Shot at one of her father's cars. Missed, but got the bodyguard.

Another screen: a map of Chicago highlighted with ten policing obituaries.

Elena arrived, greeted by hushed talk and flashing lights.

Luca stopped pacing. "You okay?

She touched her forehead. "Just tired.

He gave her a long glance. "You're playing with fire.

At his station, Dante checked transcripts. "These messages... Can you trace them?

He tapped a file named Code Black.

Luca scrolled. "Closer Balkan connections. Gun traffic route across Montenegro.

Dante rubbed his jaw. "Milo's not dead.

Elena froze.

He observed her. "Your father's murders were coordinated. Three unique teams. Two of them are military-grade.

She absorbed the weight of that. "Who do you think hired them?

He leaned back. "Someone with resources. Someone who likes making statements.

"Someone who wants us to be afraid.

He sighed. "No. Someone who knows terror and wants you to feel it first.

He reached out, delicately stroked her hand. "If you want to leave... I can arrange it.

That was the most vulnerable thing he'd ever uttered. She recognized it, her own words seeping from his mind.

But she picked something different.

"No, she muttered. "I didn't survive my father's deal to run tonight.

He observed her, eyes softening.

Silence extended.

Then his phone buzzed.

3 A.M., Dante's Private Garage

The Hennessey Venom F5 waited, engine purring like a hunted beast. Esme opened the hood; the automobile was armed. Another blacked-out truck idled behind.

Elena climbed in.

Dante climbed into the driver's seat.

She sat rigid.

He started the engine.

"Where are we going?

He gazed at her. "A meeting.

"Alessandro?

"No. Someone local.

"What kind of meeting?

He focused on the road. "Reclaiming trust.

"Elena, please don't doubt your place.

She swallowed heavily. "I'm not.

He slowed. "We're meeting an associate from... your past.

She stiffened. "My past?

He nodded. "She'll be there.

3:15 A.M., Private Waterfront Warehouse

They parked under floodlights that sliced the darkness.

The warehouse sat on a rusty dock.

A letter scrawled in red on a wooden pallet at the door:

She saw.

Elena's pulse hammered.

Dante stepped out, extending his arm.

Inside, the warehouse was enormous, filled with shipping crates and steel drums. Shadows collected in corners.

A solitary figure waited behind a container splintered in half, charred wood, and singed edges. She turned toward them.

Elena saw that face for the first time, and her world fractured.

Entering the Past

That moment crystallized years ago, shortly before her eighteenth birthday.

Her father's house in Ravello.

A private piano recital in the courtyard.

Young Elena, rapt, fingers dancing over ivory.

Behind her, someone new, a tall woman in black.

Not her mother.

Someone else.

Now, the woman stepped forward, graceful, confident, scars disappearing like ripples on water.

She held Elena's past in her gaze.

"Elena.

Her speech had the same rich accent, but colder on the edges.

Elena stiffened. "Who... are you?

The woman observed her. "I'm your sister.

The Reveal

The word echoed, unreal.

"She, what?

She stepped closer, letting the light frame her.

"Your father gave me away when I was born. To protect both families.

"The De Lucas and...?

She didn't answer.

Elena's world tilted.

Her chest seized. "How, even? Why now?

The woman reached into her coat.

She pulled out a snapshot.

A baby girl under a blanket, two mothers in the backdrop barely visible.

Elena.

Elena sucked in a breath.

She didn't respond.

The new sister swallowed hard.

"Mariano, my real father, arranged it. He wasn't ready. Not while two families were at war. They kept my presence hidden.

"Elena, this can't,

The sister's voice broke. "It already is.

Dante moved closer. "Explain.

The sister turned her gaze to him. "Mrs. Callahan. It was my father's insurance policy. And now that you've slain Milo... the balance is broken.

She leaned close. "He always knew where I was. My position... shielded him.

Elena stared at her.

"My brother died in a crash. Milo survived, and I was put into hiding.

Elena's head spun.

Milo's ghost. Her ghost sister.

This made no sense.

"A half-sister, raised by whom?

The sister's voice sounded quiet. "A small convent outside Dubrovnik.

Elena's fists clenched. "What do you want?

The sister halted.

"I want a place at this table, " she muttered. "I want my inheritance. My name. I want you to know who you truly are.

Elena's breath hitched.

Her shoulders shook.

The Trap Unfolds

Dante's jaw was taut. "You lied to everyone.

"I was hidden. Out of war. Out of her mother's marriage.

She tilted her head. "I didn't choose this, but I'll play. If the Callahans let me.

Elena retreated a step, stunned.

The warehouse swallowed her.

"How do I even know you're telling the truth?

The sister held up both hands.

She showed Elena: a tiny birthmark, a rose, behind her ear. Just like Elena's.

Elena caught her breath.

The Tension Between Sisters

Elena squared her shoulders.

"Why now?

"Heard of the marriage. Heard my brother survived. I could have stayed hidden, but the world changed.

She looked at Dante.

"Mrs. Callahan took everything. Even Milo.

Elena's voice trembled. "That isn't me.

The sister stepped forward. "You benefit from it.

"Elena, what do you feel?

Elena exhaled.

"Confused.

The sister nodded.

"Me too.

Dante stepped closer.

"What do you want from me?

The sister turned, eyes glinting.

"Revenge. Or alliance.

She turned slowly. "And you choose.

Decision at Gunpoint

At that moment, a growl rippled beneath the warehouse floorboards.

Two black SUVs screeched into the entrance.

Luca and Esme emerged, guns ready.

Shots rang out, automatic, echoing like thunder.

The sister dove behind a crate.

Elena's heart raced.

Dante pulled out his sidearm and covered both sisters.

"Stay down.

The assailants advanced, protective gear, synched, lethal.

The quick exchange, twenty seconds that felt like minutes.

Three shots.

One man fell. Another.

The last assailant dropped behind Elena, shot through the shoulder.

Silence returned.

Luca moves in, checks for survivors.

Esme handcuffed the wounded assailant.

Elena watched her sister in the