“The good ones do.”
Sophie tilted her head. “Is he good?”
There it was. The question beneath all the others.
Leah chose her answer carefully.
“I think,” she said, “he has a chance to be.”
Sophie nodded slowly, as though filing that away for future use.
By early October, the city felt the first tremor.
Clay Mercer was arrested on federal fraud and conspiracy charges during a live press conference at City Hall. Cameras caught the moment agents stepped in behind him while he was answering a question about housing initiatives. The clip ran on every station in Illinois before lunch.
Mercer tried to smile through it.
Then he saw Ava Monroe holding a sealed evidence box and went pale enough to look sick.
The next day, Deputy Commissioner Raymond Keane resigned, claiming health reasons.
Six hours later, federal agents searched his office.
Roman D’Angelo vanished.
That was the dangerous phase.
When men realize they are not being protected anymore, they stop planning for power and start planning for survival. Roman moved safe houses twice in forty-eight hours, abandoning cash, phones, and one mistress. Nico’s crews tracked whispers through bars, ports, construction sites, and church parking lots. Nobody moved loudly. Nobody fired. Chicago waited for the explosion that still refused to come.
Leah watched it unfold from a couch in her father’s apartment with a blanket over her legs and pain radiating down her right side every time she shifted.
On television, experts argued about corruption, crime networks, and the possibility of a wider federal takedown. Nobody said Nico’s name outright yet, but everyone circled it like wolves around a campfire.
Frank stood in the kitchen doorway staring at the screen.
“You know he’s going to prison,” he said.
Leah nodded.
“And you still look like that.”
She glanced up. “Like what?”
“Like you’re relieved.”
She considered it.
“Maybe I am.”
Frank leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “That man nearly got you killed.”
“That man’s world nearly got me killed,” Leah corrected. “There’s a difference.”
Frank made a doubtful sound.
She looked back at the screen where Mercer’s photo flashed beside a corruption graphic. “Most people only change when something they love gets dragged into the fire. It doesn’t excuse what came before.”
“No.”
