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**THE CHICAGO SYNDICATE** / Chapter 1 / 12

Chapter 2 - THE COUNTDOWN

“Nothing,” Evelyn lied, her voice shockingly steady as she brushed past Gilbert. “Just replacing a soiled napkin.”

She didn’t wait for his reprimand. Grabbing a fresh silver tray, she placed the crumpled warning dead center and anchored it beneath a replacement wineglass. The clock above the bar ticked to 8:52. Three minutes. Every step back to Table Four felt like wading through wet cement. When she reached the table, the air was suffocatingly tense. Lorenzo’s enforcer shifted his weight, his massive hand dipping instinctively toward the inside breast pocket of his tailored jacket.

"My apologies for the spill, Mr. Moretti," Evelyn said smoothly, keeping her eyes locked onto the black marble floor. She slid the fresh glass onto the linen, subtly dragging the folded napkin right against the base of his water goblet. "Compliments of the house."

Celeste didn't even look up from her glowing screen. But Lorenzo did. His dark eyes tracked the subtle, trembling movement of Evelyn's fingers. He didn't flinch, but the chilling stillness radiating from him deepened. As Evelyn pulled her empty tray back, Lorenzo casually shifted his wrist, trapping the edge of the napkin under his thumb.

8:53.

Evelyn retreated to the shadowed alcove near the kitchen. She watched as Lorenzo smoothly palmed the napkin under the guise of wiping his mouth. He didn't blink. He simply tapped his index finger once against the edge of his pristine china plate. Instantly, the thick-necked enforcer stepped back, melting into the shadows.

"Celeste," Lorenzo’s voice sliced through the ambient hum—a low, velvet purr laced with absolute ice. "I need to take a call. Wait here."

"Of course, darling," she smiled, though her pulse was visibly hammering at her throat. "The north exit is quieter."

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"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, rising slowly.

8:54. Lorenzo turned his back on the golden girl of Chicago. He bypassed the north hallway entirely, striding with terrifying purpose toward the heavy kitchen doors—straight toward Evelyn.

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