Chicago smelled like diesel and old money.
We arrived at midnight with twelve Vipers, eight Reapers, and a plan that was either brilliant or suicidal. Knox had called in every favor owed to both clubs. Hammer had contacted his Chicago connections. Albert had mapped out Diane's known operations—three restaurants, two shipping companies, and a luxury hotel downtown.
We were going to hit all of them in one night.
"Remember, we are not here to kill civilians," Albert said as we geared up in the warehouse we had rented. "We hit her businesses, destroy her infrastructure, send a message. But we do this clean."
"Define clean," one of the Vipers said.
"Nobody dies who is not actively trying to kill us first."
"That is surprisingly ethical for a man nicknamed Ghost."
"My wife is a good influ
