I killed the feed.
Valentina was shaking in my arms. "I didn't do this. Alessio, I swear I didn't—"
"I know."
"But they're going to say I did. They're going to make everyone believe—"
"It's Marco." The pieces clicked together with horrible clarity. "He's escalating. Making you untouchable, unhelpable. Now, even if you go public with what you know, you'll be dismissed as a would-be murderer with an axe to grind."
"Domestic terrorism," she repeated numbly. "That's life in prison. Or worse."
My phone rang again. Domenico.
"There's more," he said. "They found the shooter. He's dead—suicide by cop. But they recovered his phone. Text messages arranging payment. Sent from a burner number that they're tracing to—"
"Let me guess. Valentina."
"Got it in one. Alessio, this is bad. The feds have her at the top of their most-wanted list. Every law enforcement agency inthe country is looking for her. And that burner they're tracing? I guarantee it's going to lead right back to fabricated evidence that puts her at the scene."
I looked up at Valentina, still straddling me, terror warring with rage in her eyes.
"Then we'd better move fast," I said. "Because I'm about to burn Marco DeLuca's entire world to ash."
I hung up and eased her off me, already moving toward my laptop.
"What are you doing?" Her voice shook.
"Getting ahead of it." I pulled up encrypted files and started downloading everything Domenico had sent. "If they're fabricating evidence, I need to see exactly what we're up against. Every detail. Every lie."
The files loaded. Text messages supposedly from Valentina. Bank transfers in her name. Security footage placing her at locations she'd never been.
I felt her come up behind me, felt her breath catch as she saw what they'd built.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
The fabrication was perfect. Professional. Devastating.
And looking at it, I realized with cold certainty that Marco hadn't just escalated.
He'd been planning this for months.
Every piece of evidence had been carefully constructed, waiting for the moment she became a liability instead of an asset.
The engagement. The wedding. All of it had been leading here—to this trap with no escape.
I turned to look at Valentina, saw her staring at the screen with growing horror.
She was seeing it too. The full scope of her father's betrayal.
This wasn't improvisation.
This was checkmate.
CHAPTER 6
Valentina
The fabricated evidence was beautiful in its brutality.
