Another camera showed Matteo. He stood with his arms crossed, watching agents search the security office. His expression was controlled but I could see the violence simmering underneath. Stefan stood beside him. Matteo's hand rested on Stefan's lower back. Protective. Possessive.
Another camera showed Luca. He was talking to an agent, all charm and easy smiles. Making the agent laugh even as they searched his office. Deflecting with personality.
I found Elio on the hallway cameras. He was directing his security team. Telling them to cooperate. To record everything. To give the FBI no excuse to escalate.
He looked calm. Professional. In control.
But I could see the tension in his shoulders. The way his jaw was clenched. The careful control that meant he was barely holding it together.
I wanted to go to him. Wanted to help. Wanted to do something besides sit in this small room and watch.
But I'd promised to stay. So I stayed.
Hours passed.
The monitors showed agents searching every room. Seizing computers. Taking files. Photographing everything. They were thorough. Systematic. Professional.
I watched them search the financial office where I'd worked with Stefan. Saw them take the computers where we'd been tracking legitimate transactions. Would they find anything incriminating? Stefan had been so careful. Kept everything clean. Separated the legal from the illegal so thoroughly that even extensive investigation wouldn't find connections.
But what if they did? What if something we'd missed gave them enough to build a case?
I watched them search the private conference room where we'd planned Winston's downfall. Where I'd given them the information about my father and Rebecca Watson. Where I'd suggested using Valentino as a cover for the leak.
What if they found evidence of those discussions? What if someone had recorded something? What if—
Stop. Stop spiraling. Focus.
I switched cameras again. Watched Elio conferring with Sandro and the lawyer. They looked grim but not panicked. This was bad but manageable. They'd prepared for this possibility. They knew what to do.
I checked the time stamp on the monitors. Three hours since the raid started.
Three hours of sitting in this small room. Watching. Waiting. Unable to help.
I hated this. Hated the helplessness. Hated watching people I cared about face danger while I hid.
But Elio had asked me to stay. Had looked at me with desperate eyes and asked me to trust him. To let him protect me.
So I stayed.
I switched to the exterior cameras. Showed the street outside Inferno. A crowd had gathered. Neighbors. Curious onlookers.
And one man with professional camera equipment. Standing apart from the crowd. Filming deliberately. Systematically. Getting shots of agents. Of evidence being carried out. Of everything.
I zoomed in on his face.
Valentino Russo.
The journalist I'd recommended. The one Luca had contacted to leak the Winston information.
What was he doing here? How did he know about the raid?
I watched him film for several minutes. Saw him get clear shots of federal agents. Of boxes being loaded into vehicles. Of everything that was happening.
This footage could bury us if he published it. Every agent. Every search. Every piece of evidence seized. All documented.
I saw security trying to approach him. Saw him disappear into the crowd before they could reach him.
I switched back to interior cameras. Looked for Luca. Found him in the main office with Sandro and Elio.
