Chapter 2 - The Flash Drive in My Purse
I stared at the flash drive.
It was so small it could disappear beneath a fingernail.
There was no label.
No writing.
Nothing that explained how it had gotten into my purse.
“I've never seen this.”
Vincent watched me carefully.
“I believe you.”
“Then how did it get there?”
“I don't know.”
“That isn't reassuring.”
“No.”
The SUV turned sharply.
I grabbed the door handle.
“Where are we going?”
“My house.”
“No.”
Vincent looked at me.
“No?”
“I don't know you.”
“You know enough.”
“I know you're rich, frightening, possibly involved in organized crime, and apparently people shoot at movie theaters when you're around.”
He considered that.
“Fair.”
“Take me home.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who shot at the theater know what you look like.”
My heart sank.
“Then call the police.”
Silence.
I looked at him.
He looked out the window.
“That bad?”
“They won't protect you.”
“Why?”
“Because one of them may already be working for the people who want that drive.”
I laughed bitterly.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you so calm?”
“Because panic doesn't stop bullets.”
I hated that answer because it sounded reasonable.
Twenty minutes later, the SUV entered a gated property overlooking the river.
The house wasn't what I expected.
There were no gold statues or ridiculous fountains.
It was enormous, but tasteful. Stone walls. Warm windows. A long driveway lined with old trees.
A woman in her sixties waited inside the entrance.
She looked at me.
Then at Vincent.
Her face changed.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Nora Bennett.”
The woman stared at me.
“Why is she here?”
“Someone put a drive in her purse.”
The woman's expression became grim.
“Then you need to call Luca.”
Vincent shook his head.
“Not yet.”
The woman looked at me.
“My name is Elena Moretti.”
“Vincent's mother?”
“Yes.”
That explained the resemblance.
Elena looked tired rather than frightening.
She approached me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did anyone touch you?”
“No.”
She exhaled.
“Good.”
I almost laughed.
“Mrs. Moretti, with respect, I have absolutely no idea what's happening.”
Elena looked at her son.
“Neither does he.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“Mother.”
“Don't ‘mother’ me. Your father spent thirty years believing secrecy kept this family safe. Look where that got us.”
Vincent said nothing.
I looked between them.
“What happened to your father?”
Elena's eyes lowered.
“He died.”
The silence that followed told me the answer wasn't simple.
She turned toward me.
“Come upstairs.”
Vincent immediately objected.
“No.”
Elena looked at him.
“She is frightened.”
“She should be.”
“She needs answers.”
“She needs to survive.”
Elena smiled sadly.
“Those things are not mutually exclusive.”
She took my hand.
I followed her upstairs.
My room was larger than my entire apartment.
There was a bed, a fireplace, a private bathroom, and a balcony overlooking the river.
I stood in the doorway.
“This is ridiculous.”
Elena smiled.
“You'll get used to it.”
“I don't intend to stay.”
“Neither did I.”
I looked at her.
She said nothing else.
An hour later, Vincent entered.
He carried a laptop.
He sat across from me.
“May I see the drive?”
I handed it over.
He inserted it.
A single encrypted folder appeared.
Vincent frowned.
“What?”
“This encryption is military-grade.”
“You can open it?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Yes.”
I crossed my arms.
“What if I just throw it away?”
He looked directly at me.
“Then someone else will kill you looking for another copy.”
My stomach tightened.
“What makes you think there's another copy?”
“Because smart people never trust one storage device.”
He began working.
I watched him for several minutes.
Then I noticed a photograph on his desk.
A younger Vincent stood beside a teenage boy.
Luca.
They were laughing.
Vincent looked almost unrecognizable.
“What happened?”
He looked at the photograph.
“My father.”
“What did he do?”
“He wanted Luca to inherit the family business.”
“And you?”
“I wanted out.”
“Did you leave?”
“I tried.”
I waited.
Vincent leaned back.
“My father died six years ago. I took control because the alternative was allowing men who had worked for him to destroy the family.”
“So you're the boss.”
“Yes.”
“And Luca?”
“He left.”
“To make movies.”
“Yes.”
I smiled faintly.
“That explains the terrible theater.”
Vincent's mouth moved.
Almost a smile.
Then his phone rang.
His expression hardened.
“What?”
He listened.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Get him to the house.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“Luca disappeared.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“You think they took him?”
“I know they did.”
He stood.
I stood too.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
“I have the drive.”
“Exactly.”
“Then you need me.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You said the drive could destroy your family.”
“Yes.”
“And now your brother is missing.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe the people who took him want the drive.”
Vincent looked at me.
“That is exactly what I'm afraid of.”
A phone rang downstairs.
Elena answered.
Then screamed.
Vincent ran.
I followed.
Elena stood beside the front door holding a phone.
“What happened?”
She looked at Vincent.
“They have Luca.”
A voice came through the speaker.
Male.
Distorted.
“Bring the woman and the drive.”
Vincent's eyes darkened.
“No.”
The voice laughed.
“Then your brother dies.”
The call ended.
Elena looked at me.
I looked at Vincent.
He shook his head.
“You're staying here.”
I stepped forward.
“No.”
“Nora.”
“You need me.”
“I need you alive.”
“You don't get to decide that.”
He stared at me.
Then something strange happened.
He smiled.
Not warmly.
Not happily.
Just with the exhausted realization of a man who had finally met someone more stubborn than himself.
“Fine.”
He turned toward his security team.
“Prepare the car.”
May you like
Then he looked at me.
“You're going to hate what happens next.”
