Leo reached the same conclusion.
“They wanted you to kill me.”
Julian looked at the folder in his hand.
“And they expected me to be predictable.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“Whoever sent this thinks they can steer us.”
Julian turned toward him.
“Then disappoint them.”
It was not mercy that made his decision.
It was insult.
Someone had used Julian Moretti’s reputation as a murder weapon and assumed he would never bother asking whether the target deserved it.
The Architect did not enjoy being treated like somebody else’s tool.
He handed the folder to the federal agent.
Marcus stared at him.
“You’re just giving it back?”
“No.” Julian kept his eyes on Leo.
“I’m removing their advantage.”
The investigation widened before dawn.
The three robbers’ equipment was traced.
Their communications were examined.
The inexperienced gunman’s connection to the other two turned out to be recent, reinforcing the theory that somebody had recruited him for a task he barely understood.
The public story remained simple: an attempted robbery at an exclusive Chicago lounge ended after armed patrons responded.
The deeper story never reached the morning news.
But within the criminal circles that watched the Moretti organization, another version spread quickly.
The waitress at Onyx had looked down the barrel of a rifle and corrected the gunman holding it.
The FBI had arrived and treated her like someone whose existence itself was classified.
And Julian Moretti, a man famous for removing threats, had allowed her to walk out of the building alive.
That combination frightened people more than a body count could have.
Leo left Meridian Tower just after sunrise.
No apron.
No tray.
She wore a plain coat provided by one of the agents.
Her hair was still pinned back, though several strands had escaped during the night.
Julian waited near the service entrance.
She stopped when she saw him.
“You planning to grab my wrist again?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I learned something.”
“That I’m not a waitress?”
Julian glanced through the doors at the wrecked lounge.
“You did spend half the night cleaning tables.”
Leo almost smiled.
“I needed the job.”
“You’re fired.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You can’t fire me.
You don’t own the lounge.”
“I own the building.”
For once, Leo looked genuinely surprised.
Julian enjoyed that more than he should have.
Then his expression turned serious.
“They know where you are.”
“I know.”
“What will you do?”
“The opposite of what I did last time.”
