Nico’s jaw works. “Clinic,” he says, clipped. “Building staff. Garage. Or a tail we didn’t burn.”
Elena shakes her head once. “The doctor. You said she was careful. But someone knew.” Her eyes flick to me. “They knew about the appointment. He knew what it was about but wanted me to tell him. It’s why he didn’t fire me. He couldn’t know for sure.”
“’For sure’ wouldn’t matter to the Russos,” Vito says, anger vibrating off him. “They don’t need proof.”
“Lock down the doctor’s office,” I order no one in particular. “All of it. Doctor, office, staff.”
“I’ll start with the clinic IT,” Giovanni says, already texting. “If a record was opened, someone looked. Access logs.”
“And the garage,” Nico adds. “Get copies of the security pulls before they ‘overwrite.’”
“I’m on it,” Giovanni says, leaving the doorway.
“What about the test?” I ask Elena.
She furrows her brows.
“Before Dr. Bianchi, you said you bought a test, then went to a clinic out of town,” I clarify. “Do you remember where?”
She nods and rattles off the name of a random convenience store, then the clinic.
“I’ll look into those,” Vito says and disappears as well.
Elena draws a breath that shudders in the middle. “He asked me if I had anything to disclose,” she says. “My boss. I said no. He reassigned me to arraignments. Said it was about optics.” Her laugh is short and dry. “He’s not wrong.”
“It was always going to be optics,” I say. “That’s their game. We’ll handle ours.”
“I had a job,” she says, low. “A reputation. It’s ruined—” Her eyes fill with tears, and she cuts herself off, squeezes her eyes shut, opens them again.
“Don’t think about that right now,” I say and brush her hair away from her wet cheek. “We’ll worry about that later, okay? As long as you’re all right.”
Elena’s fingers loosen on my wrist and slide down to my hand. “I should report the attempt,” she says, voice stronger. “To the marshals. To my office. If I don’t, and it gets out—”
“Reporting pulls you into rooms we don’t control,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Cameras. Logs. Questions you can’t refuse.”
“That’s my world,” she says, meeting my eyes. “You know that. It’s what I do.”
I hold her gaze. “And this is mine. We move faster. We can’t wait for red tape.”
A beat. She looks away first, toward the glass, toward the yard she walked yesterday. “I hear you,” she says. “But I’m not hiding.”
“You’re not,” I say. “You’re choosing timing. I won’t have them put you behind a door I can’t open, Elena.”
Her hand tightens, then eases. She nods once. No agreement. Just acknowledgment.
For now. I can feel the discussion coming back around later, as she eases away from the shock of it all.
Giovanni reappears, eyes on his screen. “Antonio’s five out. Roberto and Caterina behind him.”
Elena’s jaw ticks, but she schools it fast.
“They’re my family, Elena,” I say evenly. “And you are now too.”
I press my hand to her stomach.
Elena drags the heel of her hand down her face once. “I’m so tired,” she says quietly, like she’s surprised to hear it out loud.
“Sit back,” I say, shifting the cushion behind her. I tip my chin at the tray. “Drink. Food’s on the way.”
