He closed the door and turned the deadbolt.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, searching his face.

“No,” Dante said.

He took off his wet coat and hung it on the brass peg.

“What happened to James?” I asked.

“The police raided the warehouse,” Dante said. “Silas made sure they got an anonymous tip.”

“Did they find him?”

“They caught him with the ledgers and two kilograms of illegal cargo,” Dante said. “He will be in a federal prison for twenty years.”

I felt a cold knot in my stomach slowly untie itself.

“And Lorenzo?” I asked.

Dante looked down at his hands, then back up at me.

“Lorenzo fled,” Dante said. “His lieutenants turned on him when the police arrived.”

“Is he coming back?”

“No,” Dante said. “His organization is completely dismantled. He has no allies left in Chicago.”

I leaned against the wall, my knees feeling weak with relief.

Dante walked over and placed his hands on my shoulders.

His palms were warm and steady.

“It is over, Sophia,” he said softly. “You are safe.”

***

Three months passed, and the winter cold finally broke.