"You've been stealing from me." Elena Moretti set down her cleaning cloth, turned around slowly, and looked the most feared man in Chicago directly in the eyes. She did not flinch. She did not apologize.

The storm that had been brewing over Lake Michigan finally broke, pouring heavy rain down upon the estate’s glass conservatory and private helipad.

Matteo and Elena moved through the dark service corridors leading to the west wing. The classical music from the ballroom faded behind them, replaced by the low hum of the estate's backup generators and the sound of rain hammering against the high windows.

"Through here," Matteo whispered, leading her into the secondary administrative hallway.

Suddenly, a loud metallic click echoed from the gloom ahead.

Marco Reyes stepped out from the shadow of a marble archway, a heavy silenced pistol raised directly at Matteo’s chest. Beside him stood Juliana, holding a leather duffel bag packed with encrypted files and passports.

"I hoped you'd stay at your party, boss," Marco said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "It would have been cleaner if you died in the study later."

Matteo stopped, placing his body partially in front of Elena. "Eleven years, Marco. I paid you three times the market rate. I gave you a home, a crew, absolute authority over my safety."

"And you treated me like a glorified guard while you sat on eighty million dollars in a crypto wallet you refused to touch!" Marco spat back, his eyes wild with greed. "Vance offered us thirty percent. Thirty percent of eighty million is enough to buy an island, Matteo. I'm tired of taking orders from a man who spends his nights watching old security tapes of a dead family."

"Where is Vance?" Matteo asked, his tone deceptively calm, his eyes analyzing Marco’s stance, weight distribution, and hand stability.

"He's on the helipad," Juliana cut in, her voice nervous and sharp. "The chopper is landing in three minutes. Give us the primary decryption phrase for the wallet, Matteo, and we let the girl walk."

Marco raised his gun higher, aiming at Matteo’s forehead. "You have five seconds, boss."

Elena, standing half a step behind Matteo, didn't hesitate.

She reached up, grabbed the heavy antique brass wall sconce beside her, and yanked it downward with all her weight. The wiring shorted out instantly, creating a blinding blue electrical flash and plunging the hallway into total darkness.

BANG!

Marco fired blind, the bullet shattering a plaster vase behind them.

Matteo moved like a strike of lightning. In the dark, he lunged forward, grabbing Marco’s wrist, forcing the gun upward as another shot blew a hole into the ceiling plaster. Matteo slammed his elbow into Marco’s jaw, forcing a heavy grunt from the head of security.

Juliana screamed in the dark, dropping her duffel bag and sprinting toward the helipad exit.

"Elena, stay back!" Matteo roared as he fought Marco in the narrow hallway.

Marco was younger and heavier, but Matteo possessed a ruthless, lethal efficiency forged in decades of survival. Matteo twisted Marco’s arm behind his back, slammed him violently against the marble pillar, and wrenched the pistol from his grip.

Marco stumbled backward, gasping for air, reaching into his boot for a backup knife.

Matteo didn't give him the chance. He raised the pistol and fired twice.

The silenced thuds echoed softly in the corridor. Marco froze, looked down at his chest, and collapsed onto the marble floor, motionless.

Matteo stood over his former friend for a single second, his chest heaving, his face dark as thunder. He checked the weapon's magazine, racked the slide, and turned back to Elena.

She was standing near the wall, her green silk dress slightly torn at the hem, her eyes wide as she looked at Marco’s body. But she wasn't panicking. She looked up at Matteo, saw the blood on his cuff, and stepped toward him instead of away.

"Juliana ran to the helipad," Elena said, her voice shaking slightly but holding firm. "Vance is waiting for her."

Matteo reached out, grabbing her hand, pulling her against his chest for a brief, fierce second. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, her hands gripping his suit lapels tightly. "Finish this, Matteo."