Chapter 4 - The Art of the Hunt
The days that followed were a blur of strategy and preparation. Leo transformed the safe house into a command center. Kinsley—now embracing her name, Evelyn—spent hours with a sketch artist, her hands moving across the paper with the precision of a woman who had spent years mentally tattooing that man’s face into her brain.
Leo watched from the periphery, his mind racing. He recognized the jawline, the specific way the eyes were set, the slight scar on the bridge of the nose. It was impossible. It was a man he had trusted with the Moretti finances, a man who had stood at his father’s funeral and wept real tears.
“Julian Vane,” Leo said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Silas’s older brother. He’s the head of the Moretti real estate portfolio.”
“He was there?” Evelyn asked, looking at the sketch. “He killed them?”
“He didn't just kill them,” Leo said, his eyes burning. “He stole them. He took the deeds to our land, the secrets to our offshore accounts, and the dignity of my name. And he did it while shaking my hand at the gravesite.”
Evelyn felt a surge of cold, righteous anger. “What do we do?”
“We play his game,” Leo said. “He’s holding a gala at the Art Institute this Saturday. He’s going to announce a massive development project on the very ground where our home used to stand. He thinks he’s won, Evelyn. He thinks he’s finally buried the past.”
“And we’re going to dig it up,” she said.
“I’m going to need you to be at that gala,” Leo said. “You’ll be my guest. You’ll be the ghost he thought he’d silenced.”
Evelyn looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't a diner waitress anymore. She was Evelyn Hart, the daughter of a man who was silenced, and she had a score to settle.
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“What if he recognizes me?”
“He won't,” Leo said, stepping behind her. “Because tonight, we change everything.”
