Forty-three minutes passed.

Dante did not sit.

Arthur had been escorted downstairs while hospital attorneys challenged his transfer order.

Marco stood beside Dante.

“Boss.”

“What?”

“We got the music box.”

Dante turned.

“How?”

“Sullivan left his house unattended when he came here.”

“I said nobody enters.”

“Nobody did.”

Marco held up a phone.

“The housekeeper did.”

Dante stared at him.

“She’s worked there fourteen years,” Marco explained. “Nora gave her a Christmas bonus every year. Apparently loyalty occasionally survives politics.”

Nora’s housekeeper had taken the music box and delivered it directly to Chicago police detectives unaffiliated with Arthur’s office.

The brass key from Nora’s coat opened the false compartment.

Inside was the flash drive.

Marco looked at Dante.

“It’s over.”

“No.”

Dante stared toward the operating-room doors.

“It’s over when she comes through those doors.”

Minutes later, a sound reached them.

A baby crying.

Dante froze.

Marco slowly smiled.

“Congratulations.”

“Don’t.”

“You’re terrifying criminals across three states, but a seven-pound baby scares you?”

“I said don’t.”

The doors opened.

Dr. Boyd stepped out.

Dante crossed the hallway.

“Nora?”

“Alive.”

Dante closed his eyes.

“The baby?”

“A boy. Early, but strong.”

Dante released a breath he seemed to have been holding all night.

“When can I see her?”

“Soon.”

Boyd started walking away.

“Doctor.”

He turned.

“Thank you.”

Boyd nodded.

“Thank her. She fought like hell.”

Two hours later, Dante entered recovery.

Nora looked exhausted.

Beside her was a small hospital bassinet.

Dante stopped several feet away.

Nora smiled weakly.

“You can come closer.”

“I’m fine here.”

“Dante Corvino, are you afraid of a newborn?”

“No.”

“You’re standing like he’s explosive.”

Dante approached.

The baby slept beneath a blue blanket.

Dante stared down at him.

“He’s small.”

“He was born early.”

“Is he okay?”

“The doctors say yes.”

Dante looked at Nora.

“You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“I would’ve protected you.”

“That was what frightened me.”

His expression tightened.

“Explain.”

“You would have started a war.”

“I might have.”

“Exactly.”

Dante pulled a chair closer.

Nora looked at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

“For what?”

“For letting you believe you had to handle this alone.”

She swallowed.

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have.”

Nora touched his hand.

“Dante.”

“Yes?”

“I need something from you.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t kill Arthur.”

Dante’s expression became unreadable.

She continued.

“I mean it.”

“He nearly killed you.”

“And I want him alive.”

“Why?”

“So he can watch everything he built disappear legally.”

Dante stared at her.

Then he laughed quietly.

“What?”

“You’ve become dangerous.”

“I learned from you.”

“No.”

He looked at the sleeping baby.

“You’re much worse.”

His phone vibrated.

Marco.

Dante answered.

“Talk.”

“The drive is clean. Copies have gone to federal investigators and an independent special prosecutor.”

“And Sullivan?”

“Being questioned downstairs.”

Dante looked at Nora.

“Good.”

Marco paused.

“There’s more.”

“What?”

“Arthur’s financial records connect him to Gabriel’s death.”

Dante’s smile disappeared.

Nora watched his face.

“What happened?”

Dante ended the call.

For three years, he had wanted revenge for his brother.

Now the truth was finally within reach.

And Nora had just asked him not to become the man everyone expected him to be.

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