I'm breaking.
And this time, I don't know how to put myself back together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nico
The surveillance footage plays on loop across three monitors in Pietro's office. Grainy, but clear enough. Two men in a black sedan, parked across from the compound's east gate for the past six hours. They rotate shifts. Take photos. Make calls.
Russians.
"They found her." I slide the tablet toward Pietro, my jaw tight enough to crack teeth. "Baganov's crew. Been watching since yesterday morning."
Pietro leans back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The morning light catches the silver at his temples—more than there was six months ago. "How?"
"Best guess? Jack Walker." I pull up the second file. "They're probably searching for an opportunity."
"What kind of opportunity?"
"A housekeeper who's never made a single payment suddenly works for us? And somehow the debt gets cleared through shell companies they can't trace?"
Pietro's eyes narrow. "You made the payment."
"Yes. Anonymously. Multiple layers."
"Clearly not enough layers." He rises, moving to the window overlooking the grounds. From here, you can see the east gate. The sedan is still there. "They think she's connected. That we're using her, or she's feeding us information."
"Or both."
"Which means they're either planning to grab her for leverage, or?—"
"Use Jack to get inside." I finish the thought, my stomach churning with something darker than whiskey. "He's desperate. Owes them money he doesn't have. They offer to clear his debt in exchange for information about our operation?"
"He'd take it."
"In a heartbeat."
Silence settles between us. The kind that precedes bad decisions and worse outcomes.
"Security?" Pietro asks.
"Already increased. Doubled the gate rotation, added two men to night patrol. Vittoria's monitoring all external feeds remotely." I pause. "Kristen doesn't know."
Pietro turns to face me. "Why not?"
"Because she'll run." The words taste bitter. "She'll grab Lily and bolt, thinking she's protecting us and Lily by removing themselves. And the second she's off this property?—"
"They take her."
"Or worse."
Pietro studies me for a long moment. Too long. I know that look. He's not just seeing the tactical problem. He's seeing me.
"You care about her."
It's not a question.
"We can trust her."
