Everyone watched Victoria raise her hand against a helpless elderly woman, but only one waitress dared to stop her—and seconds later, Chicago’s most powerful billionaire walked straight toward them.

Sirens were wailing throughout the entire Chicago Loop as dawn broke. But this time, they were not the private security sirens of the Sovereign Council. Federal agents from the FBI, US Marshals, and state police flooded down the broken stairwells of the Chicago Board of Trade, their weapons drawn, flashing warrants signed by federal judges who had just received the undeniable, unalterable evidence of the Council's treason.

Aegis mercenaries dropped their weapons, throwing their hands into the air as tactical federal teams swept the subterranean chamber. Two female agents stepped forward, placing Katherine Ward in heavy steel handcuffs.

Katherine looked up at Emma one last time. Her face was hollow, aged ten years in a matter of minutes. "You think you have won, Emma? The Council is only one head of the hydra. You have exposed our ledger, but you have also exposed the vacuum. There are predators out there who make me look like a saint."

Emma looked down at her with neither hatred nor pity, only the cold resolve of someone who had survived the inferno. "Let them come. I won't be hiding in a diner anymore."

As Katherine was led away up the stairs into the blinding morning light of LaSalle Street, medical teams rushed into the room to attend to Vincent’s injuries. Vincent waved them off, insisting they tend to Carter and Sofia first.

He walked over to Emma, who stood near the shattered prow of the slag locomotive, looking at her blood-stained hands. The satellite drive had finished its transmission and now lay dormant, a harmless piece of cold titanium.

"It’s over," Vincent said quietly, placing his heavy overcoat over her shoulders to ward off the underground chill. "The Moretti name is cleared. The Council’s Chicago syndicate is dismantled. Senator Vance and Julian Sterling are already in federal custody."

Emma leaned against him, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart against her cheek. For the first time in months, the weight that had pressed down on her chest began to lift.

"What happens now, Vincent?" she asked softly. "To the city? To us?"

Vincent looked around the shattered vault, then up through the hole in the ceiling where the morning sun was cutting through the dust.

"We rebuild," Vincent replied. "We use what’s left of the Moretti assets to restore the neighborhoods the Council tried to starve. And we do it together."