Chapter 6 - Chicago
Serena was discharged four days later under strict orders.
No travel.
No unnecessary stress.
No heroics.
She followed two of the three.
Matthias flew to Chicago without her.
For the first time in their marriage, he did not argue when Serena said she would remain behind.
He arranged nothing without asking.
He did not send guards into her room.
He asked whether she wanted security.
Serena said yes.
That difference mattered.
Roman accompanied Matthias.
Chicago was where Dominic Hensley had built his original empire before expanding east.
Warehouses.
Construction companies.
Union contacts.
Political donors.
But the photograph contained one detail Roman understood immediately.
The building behind Fiona was an abandoned private hospital on the South Side that Hensley had purchased through a shell company.
By midnight, Roman had the property surrounded.
Matthias wanted to go inside.
Roman stopped him.
“You’re emotionally compromised.”
“Fiona knows where the rest of the evidence is.”
“And Serena needs a husband who returns alive.”
Matthias looked at him.
Roman shrugged.
“I’m becoming sentimental.”
Federal agents entered first.
They found Daniel Vale tied to a radiator.
Alive.
Fiona was in a second-floor office.
Also alive.
Hensley was gone.
So was Serena’s attorney, Graham Pell.
Fiona had been beaten badly enough to require hospitalization.
When Matthias entered her room the next morning, she began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
He stood near the door.
“Why the necklace?”
“Hensley knew Serena had found the receipt. Graham told him.”
Matthias frowned.
“Graham?”
“He had been selling information about Serena to Hensley for months.”
Matthias’s hands tightened.
“Why?”
“Money.”
Fiona looked down.
“Hensley altered the hotel documents after he learned Serena had accessed your laptop. He wanted your marriage unstable.”
“Why?”
“Because Serena was the only person you might choose over the company.”
Matthias went silent.
Fiona gave a bitter laugh.
“He understood you better than you understood yourself.”
“What does Hensley want now?”
“The flash drive isn’t enough to convict everyone. Corbin kept original ledgers.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You had his key.”
“Yes.”
“Locker 318?”
Fiona shook her head.
“That locker contained instructions. The actual key opens a safe.”
“Where is the key now?”
Her face changed.
“Graham has it.”
Back in Connecticut, Serena was sitting in her mother-in-law’s kitchen when she remembered something.
Corbin’s last words.
Christmas tells the truth.
She had assumed Christmas meant the Dre party.
But Corbin had died in November.
He could not have known she would attend that party.
Christmas meant something else.
Serena opened the photograph of the diagram.
Numbers.
Account groups.
Estate layout.
Then she noticed the Christmas tree symbol drawn near the library.
Not decoration.
A marker.
Serena stood.
Her security detail followed her into the library.
The Dre estate remained partially closed after the shooting, but investigators had released several rooms.
The library contained a smaller Christmas tree.
Beneath it were antique wooden ornaments Charles’s family had displayed for decades.
Serena examined them.
One was shaped like Chicago’s skyline.
She turned it over.
A date had been carved beneath it.
December 18, 1989.
Corbin’s birthday.
Her pulse accelerated.
She broke the ornament open.
Inside was a tiny strip of paper.
An address.
Chicago.
Serena immediately called Matthias.
He answered on the first ring.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Listen.”
She told him.
Roman checked the address.
It belonged to an old bank building.
Safe deposit boxes.
Matthias and federal agents arrived within the hour.
Graham Pell was already there.
He ran.
He did not get far.
The brass key opened box 412.
Inside were the original ledgers.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
And a handwritten letter from Michael Corbin.
The evidence implicated Hensley, Charles Dre, Graham Pell, and more than twenty others.
It also contained something Matthias had not expected.
Documents showing his father had been secretly moving ownership of Dre Group assets into Hensley-controlled companies.
Charles had not been protecting the family empire.
He had been selling it.
Matthias sat alone inside the bank conference room.
Everything he had been raised to inherit was already hollow.
Roman sat opposite him.
“You can rebuild.”
Matthias shook his head.
“I don’t want to.”
“What do you want?”
Matthias looked at his wedding ring.
“My wife.”
Roman waited.
“My daughter.”
“Then perhaps stop treating your marriage like another company you can acquire.”
Matthias almost laughed.
“You giving relationship advice is deeply concerning.”
“I contain multitudes.”
Matthias’s phone rang.
Serena.
He answered.
“Hey.”
Her breathing sounded strange.
“Matthias.”
He stood.
“What happened?”
“I’m at St. Catherine.”
His blood turned cold.
“Why?”
“My contractions started again.”
“How close?”
“Two minutes.”
He was already moving.
“Serena—”
“And Matthias?”
“Yes?”
Her voice broke.
“They can’t stop them this time.”
He closed his eyes.
“I’m coming.”
“The doctor says you may not make it.”
“I’m coming.”
“Matthias.”
He stopped.
Serena whispered:
“I’m scared.”
Every other problem disappeared.
“I know.”
His voice shook.
“But you’re not alone.”
He ran for the elevator.
May you like
Serena’s next words followed him.
“Hurry.”
