For days, the Chicago underworld was on a knife’s edge.Word was on the street: Cassian was going to war with the Marchetti family.Their crews were already shooting at each other over territory.Two weeks later.Night fell. The Vieri estate’s security system let out a short, sharp alarm.I was standing by the living room window, a glass of red wine in my hand.A dark figure slipped past the patrol guards and climbed through a window from the garden’s blind spot.The man was panting, his expensive suit covered in mud.He was older, haggard, a beard shadowing his face. The once-powerful boss looked like a stray dog.It was Julian.He stumbled towards me and pulled a small, sealed metal box from his coat.The sharp, chemical smell hit me instantly.“What is that?” I took a step back.“The thing in Chloe’s belly.” His eyes were bloodshot, his voice like sandpaper. Pure madness. “A fully-formed, dead fetus. I cut it out of her myself. No anesthetic.”My stomach turned. I swiped my hand, kn
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