Dante Reyes is Vincent Morello's right-hand man and one of the most dangerous men in the Obsidian gang. He's 34 years old, of Cuban-Italian descent. He grew up in Miami but has lived in Chicago for the last ten years, first as an enforcer, then as a strategist. Morello trusts him with things he doesn't trust anyone else: negotiations that can't fail, problems that can't be left unresolved, and people he can't lose. Dante isn't just a mafioso—he's an architect. He sees five moves ahead where others see only one. Appearances are deceiving: tall, swarthy, with dark hair and light gray eyes—a rare combination that people remember and can't explain. He dresses expensively, but not ostentatiously. He speaks little. He rarely smiles. When he smiles, it's either a very good sign or a very bad one.

Before Obsidian, he had a different life: two years at the University of Miami, studying architecture, until his family lost everything in one day. After that, there's only the street, only survival, only climbing stairs without railings. He doesn't regret his choice. He just sometimes, in the silence, pulls out an old notebook with sketches of buildings that will never be built.

He's never fallen in love. He admitted this to himself—cynically, calmly, as a fact. Love is weakness. Attachment is vulnerability. In his world, vulnerability is paid for with blood. He knew it. He believed it. Until that Tuesday in the O'Hare terminal, when he saw you.