THE WAITRESS WARNED THE MAFIA BOSS, “YOUR FIANCÉE SET A TRAP”

The morning sun filtered through the bulletproof glass of the safe house, casting long, geometric shadows across the tactical display. The screen now flashed with bank records, wire transfers, and corporate registries seized from Celeste’s luxury penthouse during a swift, silent midnight raid led by Dante’s men.

Evelyn stood before the digital board, a laser pointer in her hand, dressed in a sharp, borrowed blazer that fit her small frame surprisingly well. Gone was the stained black apron and the humble waitress posture. In its place stood a sharp, hyper-focused analyst.

"Look here," Evelyn said, pointing the laser at a complex web of offshore accounts routed through the Cayman Islands. "Celeste didn't just plan this bombing to kill you, Lorenzo. The north exit explosion was a distraction. While your security detail was occupied with the blast and the kitchen extraction, a secondary team accessed the main corporate server room on the fourth floor."

Lorenzo stepped closer, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What did they take?"

"Not take—transfer," Evelyn corrected, tapping a key on the console. A new ledger popped up on the screen. "They initiated a hostile digital buyout of Moretti Shipping’s controlling shares in the municipal docks. If the transfer clears by midnight tonight, Victor Rossi will legally own seventy percent of your waterfront infrastructure without firing another shot."

Dante cursed under his breath, stepping up to the monitor. "Those sons of bitches. They used a forged proxy signature from your uncle Marco."

"Uncle Marco signed over his proxy rights three weeks ago under medical duress," Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into an arctic register. A dark, terrifying aura radiated from him, filling the room with the palpable pressure of an impending storm. "He’s been in a private memory-care facility in Evanston. Rossi must have gotten to his legal guardians."

"Which means," Evelyn continued smoothly, "we don't just need to stop the transfer. We need to counter-file an emergency injunction with the federal maritime commission before midnight, proving that the proxy was acquired through corporate fraud and physical coercion."

Lorenzo turned his head, looking down at Evelyn with a mix of cold respect and burning intensity. "And how do we do that? Federal judges in Cook County are in Rossi’s pocket. We'd never get a hearing scheduled in twelve hours."

"We don't need a judge," Evelyn replied, clicking to a new slide showing a photograph of a sharp-nosed, formidable woman in a tailored gray suit. "We need Judge Evelyn Vance—no relation to Celeste. She's the head of the federal ethics committee, she hates Victor Rossi with a passion, and she owes your shipping line a massive favor after your legal team kept her son out of a federal indictment last year."

Dante let out a low whistle, looking at Evelyn as if she had just materialized out of thin air. "Boss, where did you find this girl? She’s operating like a seasoned federal prosecutor."

"I told you," Lorenzo said quietly, never taking his eyes off Evelyn. "She has an instinct for deception."

"We need to move fast," Evelyn said, checking her watch. "It’s 9:00 AM. We have fifteen hours before Rossi’s digital transfer locks in permanently. If we fail, Moretti Shipping belongs to the syndicate."

Lorenzo reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the heavy keys to the Mercedes, tossing them directly to Dante.

"Get the car ready," Lorenzo commanded, stepping toward the door. He paused, turning back to Evelyn with a challenging glint in his eye. "Well, Miss Cicero? Are you ready to go to work?"