Lorenzo Rossy’s eyebrow arched an infinitesimal fraction of an inch. No one—not rival capos, not corrupt city councilmen, and certainly not trembling applicants—ever asked him if he had yelled at a woman who left his office in tears.

The abandoned shipping warehouse on the South Chicago harbor was freezing, dark, and filled with towering stacks of rusted steel containers.

Giovanni Moretti sat at the center of a makeshift table made of wooden pallets, flanked by a dozen heavily armed soldiers. Across from him stood Lorenzo Rossy, flanked only by Matteo and Chloe, who wore an oversized trench coat and clutched a heavy leather briefcase to her chest.

“You’re late, Lorenzo,” Moretti sneered, a jagged scar stretching across his cheek as he grinned maliciously. “And you brought an accountant to a war?”

“She’s better with numbers than you are, Giovanni,” Lorenzo replied coldly, his hand resting casually inside his jacket. “Let’s get straight to it. Your supply lines are cut, your shell companies are frozen, and your men are in the morgue. You’re done.”

Moretti laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the metal walls. “Am I? Check your terminals, Lorenzo. My men currently have a kinetic charge wired directly to your downtown server racks. One word from me, and the entire Rossy Corporation financial database goes up in flames. Every ledger, every record, every dollar you own—gone.”

Moretti’s men raised their weapons, training them directly on Lorenzo and Matteo.

Lorenzo didn't flinch. He glanced down at Chloe.

Chloe stepped forward, setting the leather briefcase down on the wooden pallet table. She popped the metal latches.

“You think you’re the only one with a remote trigger, Moretti?” Chloe asked, her voice echoing clearly across the cavernous warehouse.

Moretti frowned, squinting at her. “Who the hell is this?”

“I’m the person who audited your offshore accounts,” Chloe said calmly. She pulled out a small tactical laptop, opened the screen, and tapped a single key. “You see, Giovanni, while you were busy wiring explosives to our servers, I spent the last six hours executing a reverse-routing protocol on your Swiss cryptocurrency wallet.”

Moretti’s face drained of color. “What did you do?”

“I just transferred every single cent of your twenty-million-dollar syndicate fund into a public municipal charity for abandoned stray dogs and inner-city art programs,” Chloe smiled sweetly. “Your accounts are empty. You are broke. The families won't back a boss who can't pay his own grocery bill, let alone his soldiers.”

Moretti shrieked in absolute fury, drawing his pistol. “Kill them! Kill them all!”

Before Moretti’s finger could pull the trigger, Matteo moved with blinding speed, firing two shots that knocked the gun from Moretti’s hand. At the same time, the overhead skylights of the warehouse shattered.

Crash!

Specialized tactical teams hired by Lorenzo dropped down on ropes from the rafters, swarming the warehouse floor and subduing Moretti’s men in seconds.

Moretti dropped to his knees, staring in sheer horror as his empire vanished into thin air.

Lorenzo walked slowly over to Moretti, looked down at him with absolute contempt, and then turned his gaze to Chloe.

The warehouse was silent.