THE FOOTSTEPS ON THE CONCRETE STAIRS

The descent was agonizingly slow.

The service elevator creaked and groaned as it carried us deep beneath the Castellano estate. The single bare bulb overhead flickered, casting long, terrifying shadows against the steel walls.

Sara was on her knees, rocking Lily back and forth, whispering soothing words that sounded more like prayers. I leaned against the back wall, my whole body shaking, staring at Roman’s oversized suit jacket that was still draped over my shoulders.

Leo stood by the doors, his gun drawn, staring intensely at the floor indicator.

Ding.

The doors parted, revealing a cold, damp limestone tunnel. The air smelled of old dirt and copper. This was a prohibition-era smuggling route, a relic of the Castellano family’s bloody history.

“Move,” Leo ordered, stepping out into the dark. “Keep your heads down. We have to walk three blocks underground to reach the extraction point.”

We hurried through the tunnel. My cheap uniform flats slapped loudly against the puddles of stagnant water. Lily’s little hand was gripped tight in mine.

“Leo,” Sara whispered as we walked, her voice echoing slightly. “Why did you do it? Why did you help Blair frame me?”

Leo didn't stop walking. He didn't look back. “Because you were making him weak, Sara. My brother used to be a king. But when Lily was born, he started talking about going legitimate. Dissolving the council. Handing the ports over to the feds in exchange for immunity.”

Sara gasped. “He was trying to protect his family.”

“He was destroying our empire!” Leo snapped, pausing to look over his shoulder. “Blair found out. She came to me. She said if we got rid of you, Roman would lose his anchor. He’d fall back into the darkness. He’d be ruthless again.”

“But you were wrong,” I spoke up, surprising myself.

Leo narrowed his eyes at me. “Excuse me?”

“Roman didn't fall into the darkness,” I said, clutching the oversized jacket tighter around my chest. “He just became completely hollow. He stopped living. Blair didn't get a ruthless king. She got a ghost.”

Leo looked away, his jaw clenching. He knew I was right.

We reached the end of the tunnel. A heavy iron grate blocked our path, leading up to a storm drain in a secluded alleyway.

Leo shoved the grate open. Rain immediately poured down through the opening, soaking us.

“Climb up,” Leo ordered. “The extraction vehicle should be parked on the street.”

I lifted Lily up first, boosting her through the manhole. Sara scrambled up after her, and I followed, pulling myself out into the freezing Chicago rain.

We were in a dark alleyway behind a row of abandoned warehouses. The thunderstorm was raging, masking the sound of the gunshots from the mansion three blocks away.

A sleek black Mercedes was idling at the end of the alley, its headlights cutting through the heavy rain.

“Thank God,” Sara cried, rushing toward the car with Lily.

“Wait!” Leo shouted, raising his gun.

But it was too late.

The doors of the Mercedes flew open.

Four men in tactical gear stepped out, assault rifles raised and aimed directly at us.

And stepping out from the driver’s seat, holding a silver umbrella, was Blair Whitmore.

She looked absolutely pristine, untouched by the chaos she had caused. She smiled warmly at us, though her eyes were dead and completely devoid of humanity.

“Did you really think,” Blair called out over the thunder, “that I wouldn't know about the escape tunnel?”

Leo raised his pistol, aiming at Blair. “It’s over, Blair. I’m not playing your game anymore.”

Blair laughed. She casually reached into her designer trench coat and pulled something out.

She tossed it onto the wet pavement.

It slid across the asphalt and stopped right at my feet.

I looked down. My blood ran completely cold.

It was a heavy, solid gold pocket watch. The Castellano family crest was engraved on the front.

It was Roman’s watch. The one he never, ever took off.