Chapter 9 - The Betrayal WithinThree weeks later, the Chicago underworld was unrecognizable.
Under Caleb Rossi’s ruthless campaign, the rival syndicates had either fallen in line or been completely dismantled. But the final piece of the puzzle remained unsolved: the mole inside Caleb’s inner circle who had leaked his medical location and slipped the cyanide into his drink at the Red Door Club.
Rachel sat in the command center of the penthouse loft, staring at a wall of security monitors displaying encrypted financial wire transfers, encrypted comm logs, and internal surveillance feeds. Her transformation was complete. Gone were the simple scrubs and the tired posture of an overworked ER nurse. She wore a tailored black pantsuit, her hair sleek, her eyes sharp and analytical. She had learned the language of the syndicate faster than anyone anticipated.
"We have a hit on the secure server," Enzo announced, walking into the room and slapping a decrypted data drive onto the desk. "A secondary comms relay just pinged from an encrypted IP address originating from Harbor Mercy Medical Center."
Rachel’s eyes widened. "Harbor Mercy? Who?"
"Dr. Harrison Brooks."
Rachel stared at the screen in utter disbelief. "Harrison? That’s impossible. He’s a trauma surgeon, not a mobster."
"He’s a gambler," Caleb said, stepping into the room from his private study. He looked fully recovered, a dark trench coat draped over his shoulders. "Massive poker debts. The syndicates bought him out six months ago. He was the one who called time of death prematurely that night in the ER, hoping I would flatline permanently on the table before the shock team could restart my heart."
A cold shudder ran down Rachel’s spine. "He... he wanted you dead from the very beginning. He let you die for forty-seven seconds."
"And you brought me back," Caleb said, stepping closer to her, his gaze softening. "Which ruined their entire timeline."
"Where is he now?" Rachel asked, her voice turning cold as ice.
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"He's currently on duty at the hospital," Enzo said, cracking his knuckles. "Shall I bring him to you?"
"No," Caleb said, a dark, calculating smile touching his lips. "We pay a visit to our old hospital."
