Chapter 8: What Daria Miscalculated
By midnight, three things had happened.
Marcus Hale was in a locked room on the ground floor with two of Roman's men outside the door and his phone on the table in front of him, screen up, every message visible.
Daria Voss had sent him four texts in the last two hours.
The last one, sent at 11:47 PM, read: *Is it done?*
Marcus had not replied to any of them.
Roman stood at the table reading the messages.
Claire stood across from him.
Neither of them had sat down.
"She's waiting for confirmation," Claire said.
"She'll start to worry soon."
"What happens when she worries?"
"She runs or she escalates." Roman set the phone down.
"Daria doesn't run.
She's not built for it.
She'll escalate."
"Meaning she'll try something else."
"Meaning she'll try something worse." He looked up.
"Which is what I need her to do."
Claire studied him.
"You want her to move."
"I want her to move toward something I control." He crossed to the other side of the table and pulled up a laptop.
On the screen was a map of Chicago — the river district, Lincoln Park, a cluster of marked locations.
"Daria has been operating out of a building in Pilsen for the last six weeks.
We've known the location for four days.
I've been waiting for a reason to use it that doesn't look like aggression."
"You want her to give you one."
"She already has.
I just need documentation."
He turned the laptop toward Claire.
On the screen was a split image — the bridge camera footage on the left, a cleaner image on the right.
The right image was timestamped, high resolution, and showed Daria Voss's hand on Ethan's back at the precise moment of contact.
"My security team pulled it from a private camera on the building across the bridge," Roman said.
"A restaurant.
They keep ninety days of footage.
The owner was cooperative."
"That's evidence of assault," Claire said.
"That's evidence of attempted murd3r of a minor," Roman said.
"Which means it goes to the police.
Officially.
Tonight."
Claire looked at him.
"You're going to the police."
"Detective Carla Reyes.
She's been building a case against Viktor Hale's remaining network for eight months.
Daria Voss is the last piece she's been missing." Roman closed the laptop.
"I'm going to hand her everything — the footage, Marcus's messages, Daria's texts, the timeline.
All of it."
"And in exchange?"
"In exchange, Reyes gets her case.
Viktor Hale's appeal fails.
And Daria Voss is arrested before morning."
Claire was quiet for a moment.
"You could have gone after her yourself," she said.
"Yes."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
Roman looked at her steadily.
"Because my son asked me not to do something bad," he said.
"And I decided, for once, to listen."
He picked up his phone and dialed.
It rang twice.
"Reyes," he said.
"It's Mercer.
I have something you need to see.
How fast can you get to Lincoln Park?"
He listened.
"Bring a warrant," he said.
"You'll want to make an arrest tonight."
He ended the call and set the phone down.
The house was quiet around them.
"What happens to Marcus Hale?" Claire asked.
"He'll be turned over to Reyes as well.
He conspired in the sedation of a minor.
That's a charge."
"He didn't go through with it."
"He got far enough." Roman's voice was even.
"His brother will have his hearing.
The witnesses are still protected — Daria never transmitted the names to anyone.
The case holds." He paused.
"Marcus made a terrible choice for a reason I understand.
That doesn't make it not a choice."
Claire nodded slowly.
"And me?" she said.
Roman looked at her.
"You're free to go," he said.
"Whenever you want.
I'll have someone drive you." He paused.
"Or you can stay until Reyes arrives.
Ethan will want to know it's finished when he wakes up.
He'd probably rather hear it from you."
Claire thought about her apartment.
Winston.
The cold.
The grinding Honda.
May you like
She thought about an eight-year-old boy who had knocked a mug off a nightstand on purpose to leave a signal, and then pretended to be asleep.
"I'll stay," she said.
