“Think about it,” Dante said. “Call the number on the card tomorrow morning.”

The smell of cheap beer and expensive cologne stuck to my skin after my shift ended.

I walked the four blocks to the train station with my coat collar pulled up against the biting Chicago wind.

My feet ached in my boots, the pain throbbing with every step on the icy pavement.

When I got home, Mrs. Patel was asleep on the sofa, a knitting needle still clutched in her hand.

I paid her what I could, whispered my thanks, and carried Lily to her crib.

Lily looked so small in the dim light, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythms.

I stroked her soft cheek, promising myself I would find a way out of this.

The radiator in my kitchen clanked and hissed, but the air remained freezing.

It was six in the morning.

I sat at the small wooden table, holding a mug of black coffee to warm my fingers.

On the table sat two papers.

The first was an eviction notice printed on bright yellow paper.

The second was Dante Russo’s business card.

I picked up my cracked smartphone and typed his name into the search bar.

The screen loaded slowly.

Local news articles flooded the page.

*Federal Investigators Target Russo Enterprises.*

*Dante Russo: The New Face of Chicago’s Underworld.*

*Syndicate Violence Escalates on the South Side.*

The coffee grew cold in my hand as I read the words.

He was not just a wealthy businessman.

He was a mob boss, a man linked to extortion and blood.

Accepting his money meant stepping into the dark.

It meant risking everything I had left to keep Lily safe.

But looking at the yellow eviction notice, I knew we had three days before we were on the street.

James had left us with nothing but debt and fear.