Chapter 6 - The Betrayal Inside the House
Rafael did not deny it.
That frightened me more than if he had.
We found him in the kitchen with Brin, standing beside the counter while snow pressed white against the windows.
Ciro placed the transmitter on the marble between them.
"Explain."
Rafael looked at it.
Then at me.
"I put it there."
Brin stepped back from him.
"You what?"
Saurin closed the kitchen door.
Ciro's face became empty.
I had learned that blankness meant danger.
"Why?" I asked.
Rafael rubbed a hand across his mouth.
"Because three weeks before you left Lisbon, I received a photograph of Sofia."
He pulled out his phone.
"Alive. Holding that day's newspaper."
He showed us.
Sofia sat in a bare room under fluorescent light. Older than the woman in family photographs Rafael had shown us, but unmistakably the same person.
Across the bottom of the image was a message.
DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD AND SHE KEEPS BREATHING.
Brin whispered a curse.
Rafael continued.
"They wanted information on Vale Maritime. Schedules. Visitors. Transfers. At first nothing that involved Lea. Then she announced she was returning to Chicago."
I stared at him.
"You knew I was coming home before I told Ciro."
"Yes."
"And you told them."
He looked ashamed.
"Yes."
Ciro moved.
Saurin intercepted him with one arm across his chest.
It was the first time I had ever seen anyone physically stop Ciro Vale and survive the first second.
"Not yet," Saurin said.
Ciro's eyes never left Rafael.
"You put her in their sights."
"I thought she was already in their sights."
"You planted a transmitter in her office."
"I was told they only wanted to know whether she had the Compact seal."
"And you believed them?"
Rafael's voice sharpened.
"They had my sister."
"So you traded mine."
The word mine hit the room before Ciro could take it back.
No one commented.
Not even Brin.
I looked at him.
His face did not change.
Neither did mine.
Later.
There would be time for that word later, assuming we all remained alive long enough to be emotionally irresponsible.
"Did you tell them about the safe apartment?" I asked Rafael.
"No."
"The townhouse?"
"They already knew it."
"The hotel meeting with Vittorio?"
He hesitated.
Ciro took one step forward.
"Answer her."
"Yes."
Brin inhaled sharply.
"That woman in the garage was your sister and you sent us there knowing she might be waiting?"
"I did not know Sofia was in Chicago. They told me Vittorio wanted to frighten Lea. Not kill her."
"You are a spectacularly poor judge of criminal intent," Brin snapped.
Rafael looked at me.
"I am sorry."
I believed him.
That did not help.
"Who is they?"
"A man who uses the name Mercer. I have never seen his face."
Saurin's expression changed.
"Adrian Mercer?"
Rafael nodded.
Ciro cursed softly.
I looked between them.
"Who?"
Saurin answered.
"Vittorio's former operations chief. Disappeared six years ago after a federal investigation."
"And now he is blackmailing Rafael with a woman who has been officially dead for nine years."
"Yes."
I folded my arms.
"Then we stop reacting and make them react."
Ciro turned to me.
"You are not bait."
"I did not say I was."
"You were about to."
"It is disturbing how often you think you know what I am going to say."
"It is disturbing how often I am right."
Rafael looked at Brin.
"Are they always like this?"
"Worse now. There has been kissing."
I closed my eyes.
Ciro stared at her.
Brin lifted both hands.
"What? We are all under stress."
Saurin turned away, shoulders moving once.
He was laughing.
I would deal with him later.
We built the plan anyway.
Rafael would send Mercer a message claiming I had found the second section of the Compact records in my father's old bank box.
The records did not exist.
As far as we knew.
But Vittorio would not know that.
We would offer a controlled exchange in a warehouse owned by a Moretti holding company that had been empty for years.
Ciro objected for twenty-three consecutive minutes.
Then I reminded him that every objection he made was evidence the plan might work.
He did not enjoy that.
By seven that evening, Saurin had placed men around the warehouse.
By eight, Rafael had received a response.
BRING THE GIRL AND THE SEAL. COME ALONE.
I read it twice.
"They really need a better word than girl. I am almost thirty."
Ciro looked at me as though murder might be easier than conversation.
"You are not going."
"We discussed this."
"You discussed it. I rejected it."
"That is not how collaborative planning works."
"This is not collaborative."
I turned to Saurin.
"Do you see what I have dealt with for seven years?"
"I have dealt with it for twelve."
Ciro looked at him.
"You can both leave."
Saurin nodded toward me.
"She owns the trust you are trying to save."
"I know who she is."
The room fell quiet.
Ciro's eyes met mine.
The unfinished conversation from the kitchen returned.
Mine.
I did not push it.
Not yet.
At 9:10, Rafael left for the warehouse with a tracking device under his collar and a duplicate black seal in his coat.
I stayed at the safe apartment because Ciro threatened to handcuff me to a radiator.
I told him that was wildly inappropriate after kissing me.
Brin laughed for a full minute.
Ciro did not.
At 9:38, the audio feed from Rafael cut out.
At 9:41, Saurin called.
"Something's wrong."
Ciro was already reaching for his coat.
"What?"
"Our south team is not responding."
"Pull everyone back."
"Trying."
A crash sounded over the line.
Then static.
"Saurin?"
Nothing.
Ciro looked at me.
"Basement. Now."
"I'm not—"
The lights went out.
Brin screamed from the hallway.
A second later, the windows exploded inward.
Not from bullets.
From a concussive charge in the courtyard.
The alarm system died.
Emergency lights flashed red.
Ciro drew his weapon and shoved me behind the stone kitchen island.
"Stay down."
Footsteps thundered upstairs.
Not ours.
Someone had entered the building.
Ciro fired toward the hallway.
A man fell back behind the doorframe.
I grabbed Brin and pulled her behind the island with me.
"Back stairs," Ciro said. "Go."
"I'm not leaving you."
His eyes found mine in the red light.
"Lea, for once in your life, do exactly what I tell you."
The fear in his voice made me obey.
Brin and I ran.
We reached the service stairwell.
The door opened from the other side.
I nearly swung a fire extinguisher at Saurin's head.
"Don't," he said. "I have had a difficult evening."
Blood ran from a cut over his eyebrow.
"Where did you come from?"
"Warehouse was a decoy. They hit the apartment instead."
My stomach dropped.
"How did they know the address?"
Saurin looked at me.
Then at Brin.
"Only five people knew."
Ciro.
Me.
Saurin.
Brin.
Rafael.
The list formed silently between us.
A gunshot cracked upstairs.
I turned.
"Ciro."
Saurin caught my arm.
"We go down."
"No."
"Lea—"
Another shot.
Then a heavy impact.
I tore free and ran back.
The kitchen was filled with smoke and red light.
Two men were down near the hall.
Ciro was on one knee beside the counter.
His left hand pressed to his side.
Blood spread between his fingers.
Everything inside me went cold.
"Ciro."
He looked up.
"I told you to go."
"You have terrible timing for criticism."
I dropped beside him.
The wound was below his ribs.
Not a clean hole.
A graze, maybe deeper at the edge.
He was conscious.
Breathing.
Furious.
All good signs.
Saurin reached us and applied pressure.
"We need to move."
Then a phone began ringing.
Not mine.
Not Ciro's.
One of the attackers' phones lay on the floor.
Saurin picked it up.
The screen showed a video call.
MERCER.
Ciro looked at me.
I answered.
The screen filled with darkness.
Then a man's distorted voice.
"Miss Moretti."
"You have my attention."
"Good. Ask Rafael Lanza why the only entrance we used tonight was the one he gave us."
I looked at Saurin.
His face hardened.
Mercer continued.
"And tell Ciro the next bullet will not miss his heart."
The call ended.
For one second, no one spoke.
Then Saurin's own phone buzzed.
A message from Rafael.
It contained a location pin.
May you like
And four words.
I FOUND MY SISTER.
