"Understood."
Julian pulled up Valentino's information and sent it to Luca. "He's based in Brooklyn. Works freelance but publishes with several major outlets. He's got awards for investigative journalism. And he's relentless—once he gets a story, he doesn't let go until it's published."
"Sounds perfect." Luca was already reviewing the information on his phone. "I'll reach out now. Anonymous tip. Enough breadcrumbs to lead him to the Winston-Watson connection. He'll handle the rest."
"What about the families?" Matteo asked. "We can't rely solely on a journalist. What if he decides not to publish? What if it takes too long?"
"We hedge our bets," Sandro said. "Luca contacts the journalist. I simultaneously prepare anonymous packages for the Castellano, Romano, and DeLuca families. If Valentino doesn't publish within forty-eight hours, we send the packages directly. But if he does publish first, we hold back and let the story develop naturally. Either way, Winston goes down."
"And Agent Watson?" I asked.
"Internal Affairs gets a copy too. Anonymous tip about an agent compromising investigations through improper relationships with organized crime figures. The emails prove it. Even if they try to bury it, the damage will be done."
It was a good plan. Multilayered. Redundant. The kind of strategy that accounted for variables and protected us from exposure.
"One more thing," Julian said quietly. "When this breaks, my father will know I was involved. Even if he can't prove it. He'll know. The timing, the specificity of the information, the fact that I'm missing—he'll put it together."
"Will that be a problem?" Sandro asked.
"For him? Yes. For me?" Julian met my eyes briefly. "No. I'm committed to this. To staying here. To being part of this world. Whatever consequences come from that, I'll handle them."
The certainty in his voice made something warm move through my chest.
"Then we're agreed," Sandro said. "Luca handles the journalist. I prepare contingency packages. We execute within the hour. Everyone clear?"
We all nodded.
The meeting ended. Luca left immediately to make contact with Valentino. Matteo and Sandro stayed to finalize details. Julian and I went back to my office.
"Are you okay?" I asked when the door closed behind us.
"Yes. No. I don't know." Julian sat in the chair across from my desk. "I just helped orchestrate the destruction of my father's empire. I should feel something other than relief, right?"
"There's no right way to feel about this. He's your father. It's complicated."
"He tried to sell me to a man who hurt me. Refused to protect me when I needed protection. Chose political alliances over his own son. He stopped being my father a long time ago." Julian's voice was steady. Certain. "But it's still strange. Knowing that in a few hours, everything he built will start crumbling. That I'm the one who made it happen."
I moved around the desk. Pulled Julian up and into my arms. He came willingly, pressing his face against my shoulder.
"You did the right thing," I said quietly. "Protecting yourself isn't betrayal. It's survival."
"I know. I just—" He pulled back to look at me. "Thank you. For being here. For making this bearable."
I kissed him. Soft and sweet. "Come on. Let's go back to my apartment. You need rest. Tomorrow's going to be intense once this breaks."
"I don't want to sleep alone."
"You won't. You're staying with me."
***
Valentino Russo published his exposé six hours later.
The headline was perfect:"FBI Agent's Corrupt Alliance with Chicago Crime Family Exposed: Years of Illegal Intelligence Sharing Documented."
The article was thorough. Detailed. Devastating. Valentino had verified everything independently, tracked down additional sources, built a case that was airtight. He'd even gotten quotes from unnamed federal officials confirming the investigation into Agent Rebecca Watson had been opened.
The reaction was immediate and violent.
