Chapter 2 - The Brother Buried Without a Body
Marcus moved first.
His weapon rose.
“Hands where I can see them.”
The stranger stopped beneath the archway.
Snow clung to his shoulders.
His hand slowly emerged from his coat.
Empty.
Then he smiled again.
Julian stood between Elara and the door.
“Say that name again.”
“Gabriel Vane.”
The stranger’s voice was calm.
“Your brother.”
Elara glanced at Julian.
Something had changed in him.
Not fear.
Something older.
Something worse.
“My brother is dead.”
“That’s what your father told Chicago.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“Identify yourself.”
“Sebastian Crane.”
Julian’s expression sharpened.
Elara knew the name.
Everyone in Chicago hospitality knew it.
Crane Development had been buying hotels, clubs, and restaurants across the city for years.
Rumors followed Sebastian Crane everywhere.
Political favors.
Union pressure.
Bankrupt competitors.
Nothing ever stuck.
Until now, Elara had never connected him to Julian.
Sebastian removed his gloves.
“I came because your brother is alive.”
Julian’s voice dropped.
“You have five seconds before Marcus throws you back into the snow.”
Sebastian nodded toward Elara.
“You might want the waitress to leave.”
“She stays.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Julian took one step closer.
“One.”
Sebastian reached into his coat again.
Marcus aimed.
Slowly, Sebastian removed an envelope.
“Two.”
He held it out.
“Three.”
Marcus took the envelope and passed it to Julian.
Inside was a photograph.
Julian stared.
Elara could not see it.
But his hand tightened.
Marcus looked over his shoulder.
For the first time, Elara saw genuine disbelief on his face.
“Where did you get this?” Julian asked.
“From Gabriel.”
Julian looked up.
“Where is he?”
“Safe.”
“That word means something different depending on who says it.”
Sebastian’s smile disappeared.
“Then let’s say he’s alive.”
Julian looked again at the photograph.
Elara caught a glimpse.
Two men stood outside an old church.
One was Sebastian.
The other looked disturbingly similar to Julian.
Same dark eyes.
Same strong jaw.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar ran across one side of his face.
The photograph had a newspaper taped to the wall behind them.
Three days ago.
Julian whispered something Elara could not hear.
Sebastian noticed.
“He remembers you.”
Julian folded the photograph.
“What does he want?”
“To stop a war.”
Marcus laughed once.
“By surrounding our building?”
Sebastian glanced toward the windows.
“Those vehicles aren’t mine.”
Everyone went still.
Marcus looked toward one of the guards.
The guard immediately spoke into his radio.
Sebastian turned back toward Julian.
“You assumed I was the threat.”
“I still do.”
“You should be more worried about the people who sent the photograph of her.”
His eyes moved to Elara.
Julian stepped slightly in front of her.
Sebastian noticed that too.
“So the rumors are true.”
“What rumors?”
“The waitress matters.”
“She doesn’t.”
Elara felt something strange twist inside her chest, even though she understood why Julian said it.
Sebastian smiled.
“Then why is she wearing the Vane ring?”
Julian said nothing.
Sebastian’s expression became serious.
“That ring was your father’s declaration of protection. Every serious organization in Chicago knows what it means. You didn’t hide her, Julian.”
He nodded toward Elara’s hand.
“You announced her.”
Elara stared at the ring.
Julian had told her it would make people hesitate.
He had not told her why.
“You said this would protect me.”
“It will.”
Sebastian interrupted.
“It will also tell every enemy he has exactly where to apply pressure.”
Julian’s head turned slowly.
“Enough.”
Elara pulled her hand away.
“No. Not enough.”
Julian looked at her.
“Whoever photographed me already thought I mattered. Now you’ve made half of Chicago believe it.”
“I kept you alive.”
“For ten minutes.”
His jaw tightened.
“Elara.”
“I need the truth.”
Marcus’s radio crackled.
“Movement east alley.”
Everyone looked toward him.
“How many?” Marcus asked.
A voice answered.
“Four. Maybe six.”
Marcus motioned to the guards.
Julian took Elara’s arm.
“We’re leaving.”
Sebastian stepped aside.
“I can help.”
Julian looked at him.
“If Gabriel is alive, bring him to me.”
“He won’t come.”
“Then tell him I will.”
“He’s afraid of you.”
Julian froze.
Elara saw the pain before he hid it.
Sebastian continued.
“He believes you chose your father.”
Julian’s expression became ice.
“My father murdered him.”
“No.”
The word landed softly.
Julian stared.
Sebastian took one step backward.
“Your father tried. Someone else finished the story.”
“Who?”
Sebastian looked toward Elara.
Then toward her ring.
“You’ve already met the family responsible.”
A crash exploded from the rear of the lounge.
Glass shattered.
Marcus shouted, “Move!”
Julian grabbed Elara.
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Elara heard feet.
A woman screamed somewhere near the kitchen.
Julian pulled her behind the marble bar.
“Stay down.”
“What’s happening?”
“People are coming inside.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Elara heard a dull impact.
Then another.
Marcus shouted commands.
Emergency lights flickered red.
Julian crouched beside Elara.
His body shielded hers.
“Can you run?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He pressed something into her palm.
A key.
“Private elevator. End of the corridor. Marcus will take you.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll follow.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“No?”
“I gave you an eleven-dollar Christmas ornament. You put a ring on my hand and started a city war. You don’t get to disappear now.”
Despite everything, Julian almost smiled.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
A man shouted from the hallway.
Then Marcus appeared.
“Julian, now.”
They moved.
Elara ran between them through the dark lounge.
The Christmas tree still glowed from its independent power supply, absurdly beautiful amid the chaos.
Near the elevator, Sebastian stood with one of Julian’s men.
“You’re coming?” Julian asked.
Sebastian shook his head.
“I need to reach Gabriel first.”
Julian grabbed his coat.
“If this is a lie—”
“It isn’t.”
The elevator opened.
Marcus pulled Elara inside.
Julian released Sebastian.
“Where do we meet?”
Sebastian whispered an address.
Julian’s expression changed.
Elara noticed.
“What is it?”
Julian stepped into the elevator.
The doors began closing.
He looked at her.
“My childhood home.”
The elevator descended.
For five seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Elara’s phone rang.
She jumped.
Unknown number.
Julian took it from her.
He answered.
Silence.
Then a distorted voice spoke.
“Julian.”
His face hardened.
The voice continued.
“The ring was a mistake.”
Julian looked at Elara.
“What do you want?”
“Not you.”
A pause.
“We want what the waitress has.”
Elara frowned.
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“She has nothing.”
The voice laughed.
“Ask her about her father.”
Elara stopped breathing.
“My father?”
The elevator reached the underground garage.
The doors opened.
A black car waited.
Marcus stepped out first.
Julian handed Elara her phone.
“What did your father do?”
“He was a carpenter.”
“What else?”
“Nothing.”
“Elara.”
She shook her head.
“He died when I was fourteen.”
Marcus opened the car door.
Then he froze.
Something lay on the back seat.
A wooden carving.
A raven.
Exactly like the one Elara had given Julian.
Except this one was old.
Burned around the edges.
And on the bottom, beneath the word HOME, someone had carved a date.
December 24, 2003.
Julian stared at it.
Elara whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Because she knew that carving.
She had seen it once before.
May you like
In her father’s locked toolbox.
And beneath it was a folded note with her name written across the front.
