THE MAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD

Gabriel and I stood on the platform at Union Station.

He wore a tailored black coat, looking every bit the dangerous man he was, completely recovered from the oxygen trauma. Behind him stood four of his most loyal, discreet men.

“Washington D.C. is a different kind of warzone, Katherine,” Gabriel warned me as the train approached. “Politicians. Contractors. They hide behind laws, not guns.”

“I don’t care what they hide behind,” I said.

We boarded the train.

Four hours later, we were standing outside a massive, glass-fronted skyscraper in the heart of D.C. The directory listed it as Apex Medical Innovations. It was the parent company of the private nursing agency I worked for.

Gabriel’s men disabled the security cameras in the lobby with terrifying efficiency. We bypassed the front desk and took the executive elevator to the penthouse floor.

I kicked the heavy glass door of the CEO’s office open.

Sitting behind a massive mahogany desk was a woman in her sixties. She wore sharp glasses and a cold expression.

My nursing director.

Margaret Vance.

She didn’t look surprised to see me. Or the mafia boss standing beside me.

“Katherine,” Margaret said calmly, folding her hands on the desk. “I see you received my ticket.”

“You sent it?” I demanded, gripping the silver ticket in my hand.

“Of course,” she said. “Anthony Russo was a rogue experiment. He got greedy. He started killing people recklessly—like your husband. I needed him removed, but I couldn’t do it publicly. So, I sent the smartest nurse I knew into the lion’s den, knowing you would tear it down from the inside.”

“You used me,” I spat.

“I aimed you,” she corrected.

Gabriel stepped forward, pulling a silenced pistol from his coat and aiming it at her head. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t paint this wall with you.”

“Because I have something you want, Gabriel,” Margaret said smoothly. She reached into her desk drawer.

Gabriel’s men raised their weapons.

But Margaret only pulled out an old wooden box. She slid it across the desk toward Gabriel.

Gabriel kept his gun raised but used his left hand to open the box.

Inside, resting on black velvet, was a heavy gold ring. The Russo family crest.

Gabriel’s breath caught. “Where did you get this?”

“That is the original family heirloom,” Margaret said. “Stolen from your grandfather eighty years ago. It was given to my organization as collateral.”

“Collateral for what?” Gabriel asked, his voice shaking with a sudden, deep rage.

Margaret smiled, a thin, cruel line.

“Your family’s mafia empire wasn’t built on smuggling or unions, Gabriel. It was built by us. We funded your grandfather. In exchange, the Russo family agreed to supply us with… test subjects.”

Gabriel stared at her, horrified.

The entire legacy of his family was a lie. They weren’t kings. They were lab rats for a shadow medical corporation.

Margaret looked at me. “Your husband figured it out, Katherine. He found the connection between the mob and the medical board. Anthony killed him to protect the secret, but the order came from the men above me.”

“Give me their names,” I demanded.

Margaret leaned back in her chair. “They are the most powerful men in this country. You can’t touch them.”

I stepped forward, grabbing the heavy glass paperweight off her desk, and smashed it against her computer monitor.

“I am a forty-five-year-old widow who just blew up a mafia compound,” I said, my voice deadly calm. “Give me the names, Margaret. Or Gabriel won’t have to use his gun. I will.”

Margaret looked at the fury in my eyes. For the first time, her confident facade cracked.

She slowly opened her laptop and pressed a button. A hidden wall panel slid open, revealing a steel vault door.

“The files are inside,” Margaret whispered.

Gabriel pushed her aside and opened the vault.