Chapter 8 - MIDNIGHT AT THE HALCYON
At 11:58 p.m., the Halcyon Grand looked nothing like the ballroom where Dante first saw Mara.
Chandeliers remained dark.
Tables stood abandoned.
Wilted flowers leaned over silent place settings.
Broken glass still glittered beneath chairs.
Mara entered through the same terrace doors.
Dante walked beside her.
Finn remained somewhere Wexler could not see.
The flash drive was in Dante's pocket.
At midnight exactly, the ballroom lights came on.
Richard Wexler stood on the stage.
Evelyn sat beside him.
Alive.
Two men guarded her.
“You brought Marina.”
Dante's expression was ice.
“You asked.”
Mara scanned the room.
Six visible men.
Probably more.
Wexler smiled.
“The drive.”
“Mother first.”
“Still negotiating.”
“Still breathing.”
Wexler's smile disappeared.
Mara almost admired Dante in that moment.
Not the feared man Chicago whispered about.
The son.
The brother.
The man trying desperately not to repeat his father's mistakes.
Wexler descended from the stage.
“You think those files change anything?”
“Yes,” Mara said.
He looked at her.
“Your father thought so too.”
“My father underestimated how frightened you were.”
Wexler laughed.
“Of him?”
“Of being ordinary.”
That landed.
“You built your entire life by standing behind powerful men and stealing pieces of their power. Adrian scared you because he could prove you were never the architect. Just the accountant who learned where everyone kept their secrets.”
Wexler's face tightened.
Dante understood what she was doing.
Keeping him talking.
Wexler stepped closer.
“You sound like your mother.”
Mara froze.
“My mother?”
“You thought Adrian was the clever one?”
Something in his tone changed everything.
“What did she know?”
Wexler smiled.
“Everything.”
Mara's pulse hammered.
“My mother died in a car accident.”
“So did Luca.”
Dante went still.
Mara's face lost all emotion.
“You killed her.”
“I didn't personally—”
Mara struck him.
The slap cracked through the ballroom.
Everyone froze.
Wexler touched his cheek.
Dante almost smiled.
Mara whispered, “That was for seventeen years.”
Wexler's men raised their weapons.
Dante stepped between them and Mara.
“Easy.”
Wexler recovered.
“The drive.”
Dante removed it.
He tossed it across the floor.
Wexler picked it up.
Then smiled.
“Finally.”
Mara looked at Dante.
He gave the smallest nod.
Wexler inserted the drive into a laptop.
Nothing.
His expression changed.
“What is this?”
Dante smiled.
“A copy.”
Wexler looked up.
“Where is the original?”
“Everywhere.”
The ballroom doors opened.
Finn walked in.
Alone.
Wexler stared.
Finn held up his phone.
“Twenty-three encrypted packages went out at midnight. Federal prosecutors. Investigative journalists. Attorneys. Three newspapers.”
Wexler went pale.
“You're bluffing.”
Finn shrugged.
“Wait until breakfast.”
Wexler turned toward Evelyn.
One of his men grabbed her.
Dante moved.
Everything happened at once.
A table overturned.
Mara pulled Evelyn down.
Finn tackled one guard.
Dante struck another.
Then a gunshot cracked.
Silence.
Dante staggered.
Mara's world stopped.
“Dante?”
He looked down.
Blood spread across his white shirt.
“No.”
Mara reached him before he hit the floor.
She pressed both hands against the wound.
“Stay with me.”
His face had gone pale.
“Bossy.”
“Shut up.”
“Definitely staying.”
“Dante.”
Sirens screamed outside.
Wexler ran toward the terrace.
Federal agents entered from both corridors.
He stopped.
For the first time in seventeen years, Richard Wexler had nowhere left to go.
Mara barely noticed.
She was looking at Dante.
His eyes fluttered.
“No.”
She pressed harder.
“You don't get to do this.”
“Mara—”
“Look at me.”
He did.
Her composure broke.
“I spent seventeen years learning how not to need anyone.”
His breathing became shallow.
“This is a terrible time for emotional growth.”
She laughed through tears.
“You're impossible.”
“So I've heard.”
Paramedics rushed toward them.
Mara held his hand until they pulled him away.
Then she looked down.
Blood covered her fingers.
May you like
Around her throat rested her mother's silver necklace.
For the first time in seventeen years, Mara Valescu was wearing something that sparkled.
