Chapter 9 - Shadows Left Behind
Though the corporate war had been decisively won, the underworld of Chicago never truly slept.
It was late Friday evening when Leo Rossi walked unannounced into the executive suite, holding a thick, manila legal folder stamped with federal classification seals. Gabriel and Clara were seated across from each other at the large mahogany conference table, reviewing third-quarter supply chain logistics.
Gabriel glanced up, his dark eyes instantly narrowing at the serious expression on his chief enforcer's face.
"Talk to me, Leo," Gabriel commanded, setting his pen down.
"Federal prosecutor just leaked the preliminary plea deals coming out of the Eastern District in New York," Leo reported, stepping forward and laying the folder on the table. "Salvatore Romano tried to cut a deal to save himself from a life sentence. He gave up the names of his remaining midwestern assets and the secondary accounts they used to funnel the initial kickbacks to Richard Davis."
Clara leaned forward, her forensic instincts instantly flaring. She flipped open the folder, scanning the financial routing tables and bank records attached to the federal summary.
"Look at this," Clara pointed a manicured finger at a specific string of routing numbers near the bottom of the page. "These aren't Romano accounts. These are secondary shell entities registered out of Zurich under a proxy name."
Gabriel frowned, leaning over her shoulder to inspect the document. "Who owns the proxy?"
"A shell company called Vanguard Holdings," Clara said, her voice dropping into a sharp, analytical register. "It’s a dummy corporation tied directly to the federal bankruptcy court oversight board—meaning someone inside the federal receivership team was skimming off the top of the seized assets while framing Richard and the Romanos."
Gabriel let out a cold, dangerous chuckle, shaking his head slowly. "The rats never stop eating, do they? They thought because we cut off the head of the snake, the tail wouldn't try to bite us."
"What do we do with this?" Leo asked, his hand resting instinctively near his holster. "Do we want my guys to pay a visit to the bankruptcy trustee?"
"No guns, Leo," Clara interrupted smoothly, looking up from the folder with a sharp, brilliant glint in her amber eyes. "Violence leaves fingerprints in the physical world. But mathematics... mathematics leaves a prison sentence."
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Gabriel looked down at her, a wave of pure pride and fierce admiration washing over his face. He reached out, covering her hand with his large, calloused palm.
"Show me how it's done, Miss Lawson," Gabriel whispered, a wicked, predatory grin spreading across his lips.
