December 29, 2025 – Chicago Millennium Park – Indoor Art Gallery Time: 8:30 PM
While Chicago's winter froze the homeless outside, the air inside the gallery warmed with the scent of expensive perfumes and aged wines. The city's elite distributed fake smiles to each other, crystal glasses in hand. Michael looked at his reflection in the glass, dressed in a perfectly tailored Italian-cut black suit.
The man in the mirror was no longer Michael Hale; he was Adrian Vane, the mysterious businessman created by the Alchemist.The guards at the entrance bowed respectfully when they scanned the digital invitation encoded by the Alchemist."Welcome, Mr. Vane. Mr. Sterling is waiting for you inside."Michael walked deeper into the gallery. Million-dollar paintings hung on the walls, but his eyes were fixed on one point: the man in the center of the room, surrounded by admirers.
Thomas Sterling. The city's "angel of goodness," actually Asher Burke's biggest partner in crime.Sterling noticed Michael approaching, signaled to the crowd, and turned toward them. "Mr. Vane? It's an honor that someone who collects rare pieces like you is interested in my collection. Especially after hearing that you have your father's old painting, Shadows of Chicago, in your possession."
Michael (Internal Monologue): "The alchemist had done his job well. Sterling wasn't looking at Michael Hale, he was looking at the heir to a fictional billionaire, Adrian Vane. The 'father' Sterling referred to was not my father Richard; it was a phantom created from digital data, someone who had never existed. Sterling had taken the bait; he could never have guessed who the real owner of the painting was."
Sterling's eyes narrowed for a moment. The cold confidence in Michael's voice had triggered the man's defenses. "Light and shadow... An interesting perspective. Come, let me show you the real piece."Sterling led Michael to a more secluded area, next to a statue whose cover had not yet been opened. "I'm dedicating this to the memory of psychologist Michael Hale, who died in that explosion under Dawson Bridge today.
He was the son of an old friend of my father's. It's a shame."Michael controlled his facial muscles with millimeter precision. "Death, Sterling, is sometimes less an end than a new beginning. Perhaps Mr. Hale will do in death what he couldn't do in life.""What is that?""Open his eyes."Just then, Sterling's bodyguard whispered something in his ear.
Sterling's face turned pale for a moment. He fixed his gaze on Michael. "Excuse me, Mr. Vane, I need to take an urgent call."Michael watched Sterling leave. The man's panic was due to the little "gift" the Alchemist had just sent to Sterling's private server: the original autopsy report from 15 years ago on Vince D'Angelo.
The report Sterling thought he had destroyed.Time: 9:15 p.m.The Back Garden of the GalleryWhen Michael stepped away from the crowd and into the garden, he sensed someone watching him from the shadows. It wasn't Natalia, nor was it Luca's men..."Adrian Vane isn't a bad choice of name, Doctor."Michael spun around quickly. Journalist Ivy stood there in a black evening gown, holding a glass."How did you find me?" Michael hissed."I'm a journalist, Michael. I know where every 'dead' man in town is going," Ivy said, approaching him. "Sterling just had a breakdown inside. What did you do to him?""I just shared the inheritance my father left me," Michael said. "Ivy, Sterling is just a front. I have to find out who Asher Burke is. Follow Sterling.
Who will the phone go to, what number will it call?""What about you?""I," said Michael, staring at the gallery lights, "will make sure Asher understands that I'm not dead. I need to send him a message."Michael took the glass from Ivy's hand and smashed it on the floor without taking a single sip. The shards of crystal scattered across the snow. At that moment, he saw a reflection in the gallery's huge glass facade.
On the balcony above, a man wearing a cufflink shaped like an hourglass, his face in shadow, was watching him.It was Asher Burke.Michael made a gesture as if raising the glass to the man above. He wasn't afraid. He was no longer the prey, but the hunter.Michael took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Ivy. "Put this on the front page tomorrow morning. Luca D'Angelo's secret connections in the Chicago police.
Names even Natalia doesn't know."Ivy stared at the paper in shock. "This... This will shake the department, Michael. Natalia will never forgive you.""Natalia doesn't need to forgive me," Michael said coldly. "I need her to stay alive. The rules of the game have changed, Ivy. We won't win by playing fair anymore."