He didn't deny it. Just kept driving.
We crossed into Manhattan. The streets got busier. More crowded. More dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with traffic.
"My father has people in the city," I said. "Contacts. Associates. If they see me—"
"They won't. I've got countermeasures in place. Different route every time we leave the club. Randomized patterns. No predictability." Elio glanced at me briefly. "You're safe with me."
I believed him. Which was probably stupid. Which was probably exactly what I'd been doing since I walked into Inferno two weeks ago—trusting people I barely knew because the alternative was being alone.
The bank was a nondescript building in Midtown. Elio parked in a garage two blocks away. We walked the distance with him slightly ahead of me, his body angled to shield me from the street. Protective without being obvious.
Inside the bank, I signed the paperwork with hands that wanted to shake. Showed my ID. Waited while the attendant verified everything.
Elio stood close enough that I could feel his presence. Close enough that anyone watching would think we were together. Partners maybe.
The attendant led us to the vault. Left us alone in a small private room with my safe deposit box on the table.
I stared at it.
This was real. I was really doing this.
"Having second thoughts?" Elio asked quietly.
"No. Yes. I don't know." I touched the metal box. "Once I hand these over, there's no going back. My father will know I betrayed him. That I chose you—chose them—over my own family."
"You already made that choice when you ran."
"This makes it permanent. Official. This is evidence. Proof. Once Sandro has this, once he acts on it, my father will know exactly who gave it to him."
Elio was quiet for a moment. Then: "Do you want to stop? We can walk away right now. Tell Sandro you couldn't access the box. Give you more time to think."
I looked at him. Really looked at him. Saw genuine concern in those sharp eyes. Not manipulation. Not strategy. Just honest worry about whether I was ready for this.
"No," I said. "I'm doing this. I need to do this. I just—" I took a breath. "I've spent my whole life being defined by my family. By my father's expectations. By the alliance he arranged. This is the first real choice I've ever made. And it terrifies me."
"Good. Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you from making stupid mistakes."
"Is this a stupid mistake?"
"It might be. But it's yours. That matters."
I opened the box.
Inside were USB drives. Printed emails. Documents I'd been stealing and copying for five years. Evidence of everything my father had done. Everyone he'd betrayed. Every deal he'd made with federal agents to destroy his rivals while protecting himself.
My hands shook as I transferred everything into the bag Elio handed me.
This was it. The point of no return.
I was about to destroy my father. Burn every bridge with my family. Make myself a permanent enemy of the Bianchis.
And I was doing it to protect men I'd known for two weeks.
Men who'd given me sanctuary when I had nowhere else to go. Who'd looked at me and seen someone dangerous instead of someone fragile. Who'd treated me like I mattered beyond being a pawn in someone else's game.
Men who included Elio Marino, who I was absolutely not supposed to have feelings for but couldn't seem to stop thinking about.
"Done," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt.
