"Inside," Elio said. "Now."
"What—"
"Julian. Inside. Please."
I stepped into the room. Elio followed. Closed the bookshelf behind us. Sealed the steel door.
The sounds from outside cut off immediately. Soundproofed.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Safe room. Built when we first opened Inferno. In case we ever needed to hide someone or something during a raid." Elio pulled me close. Hands on my face. Eyes intense. "You stay here. No matter what happens. You don't come out for anyone."
"Elio—"
"Listen to me. The FBI is here. They've got a warrant. They're going to search everything. Question everyone. It's going to be chaotic and potentially violent and I need you safe. I need to know you're protected."
"But you—"
"I'll be fine. I know how to handle raids. I've done this before." His thumbs stroked my cheekbones. "But you—you're Winston Bianchi's son. If they find you here, if they connect you to us, if they figure out you're the one who provided the evidence against your father—Julian, they could arrest you. Charge you with conspiracy. Use you as leverage. I can't let that happen."
"I can handle—"
"I know you can. But I can't." His voice cracked slightly. "I can't watch them take you. I can't risk losing you. So please. Please stay here. Stay safe. For me."
The desperation in his voice stopped my protests.
"Okay," I said. "I'll stay."
"Thank you." He kissed me hard. Desperate. "Don't come out for anyone. Not Sandro. Not Matteo. Not Stefan. No one. The only voice you respond to is mine. I will come back for you. I promise. But until then, you stay hidden. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Say it back to me."
"I stay here. I don't come out until you come for me."
"Good." Another kiss. Softer this time. "I love—" He stopped. Shook his head. "Stay safe. I'll be back as soon as I can."
He pulled away. Went to the door. Looked back at me one more time.
Then he was gone. The door sealed. The bookshelf swung shut on the other side.
I was alone.
***
The monitors showed twelve different angles of Inferno.
I watched federal agents pour through the front entrance. Dozens of them. Tactical gear. Weapons drawn. They moved with military precision through the club.
I saw them herd employees into the main floor. Separate them. Start asking questions.
I saw agents in Elio's office—the room I was hidden behind. They pulled open drawers. Rifled through files. One of them ran his hands along the bookshelf that concealed me. My heart stopped. But he didn't find the release mechanism. Didn't realize there was anything behind it.
They moved on.
I switched cameras. Found Sandro in the main office. A lawyer had arrived—tall woman in an expensive suit. She was arguing with agents. Demanding to see the warrant. Making them justify every action.
