Chapter 21 - THE SHADOW OVER LAKE MICHIGAN
The ink on the marriage certificate was barely dry when the first true test of the Moretti-Carter era manifested not as a hail of bullets, but as a phantom on the ledger. Six months after the fall of the Calabrese faction, Chicago was basking in an illusion of unprecedented stability. The city's shipping lanes hummed with synchronized precision, and the downtown financial institutions washed money cleaner than sacramental water. Yet, beneath the polished veneer of absolute supremacy, a subtle discrepancy bled through the cracks of the North Side logistics grid.
Evelyn sat at her mahogany desk in the Ashland bunker, her brow furrowed over a digital manifest. The screen glowed with the cold, blue light of a shipping audit that didn't add up. Four containers of medical-grade steel alloys—imported under a legitimate subsidiary for a downtown architectural front—had vanished between the Port of Indiana and the rail yards of Cicero. Not intercepted. Not burned. Simply swallowed by the labyrinthine bureaucracy of the Midwest supply chain.
Lorenzo walked into the office, his footsteps muted by the thick Persian rug, carrying a cup of dark, unadulterated espresso. He set it beside her elbow, his dark gaze dropping to the monitors. "You've been staring at that same screen for three hours, Evie. The port authority already signed off on the inventory clearance."
"The port authority is looking at numbers provided by a shell corporation registered in Delaware under a ghost name," Evelyn replied, her voice dangerously calm. She looked up at him, her gray eyes sharp as broken glass. "Someone is siphoning our supply lines, Lorenzo. Not with a gun, but with a scalpel. They aren't trying to start a turf war; they're bleeding us from the inside out."
Lorenzo’s expression hardened instantly, the casual warmth evaporating from his features. "Who?"
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"That's what we are going to find out," Evelyn said, standing up and buttoning her blazer with finality. "Get Marco. We're taking a trip to the Cicero yards."
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