I’m lying through my teeth. I used my thumb at dinner yesterday. It worked then. But I need to buy time to think of a way out of this.
"We will see," Moretti says calmly and snaps his fingers.
One of the guards steps forward, pulling a heavy scanner from a tactical bag. It's a military-grade port reader.
"Arthur gave us the verification codes," Moretti explains, grabbing my wrist. "This will show us immediately if your thumbprint is still valid."
He shoves my trembling hand, presses down hard, flattening my thumb until the joint cracks.
I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the green light. Waiting for the pain.
Beep.
The machine lets out a harsh buzz. A red light flashes on the small screen:ACCESS DENIED. USER REVOKED.
My eyes fly open.
Konstantin. He must have cut my access after dinner. He knew. He knew they would come for this.
Moretti stares at the screen, his face twisting in fury. "Revoked?"
"I told you!" I scream, the relief making me dizzy. I latch onto the lie to save my skin. "Konstantin knows! He deactivated the biometrics the moment we were married! He knew you would come for me!"
He turns back to me.
"If there’s no print," Moretti mutters, "how does he open the box?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. He lowers the knife slowly, fitting the curved belly of the blade into the circle he drew on my skin. The steel is cold against the pulse of my thumb.
Then, he leans his weight onto the knife, pressing the blade down. It slices through the top layer of skin.
"Ah!" I gasp, the sharp sting making my eyes water.
A single line of blood blooms under the steel, trickling down my thumb. It's a warning. A paper cut compared to what’s coming.
Moretti's eyes are dead. He grips the handle tighter.
"Answer me," he says. "Or the next one goes through the bone."
He’s really going to do it.
"The tablet!" I scream, the words tearing out of my throat before he can push harder. "I saw him use it. He transferred the codes to a military-grade tablet. It's the only way. My thumb is useless. You need the tablet!"
Moretti freezes. The blade stops moving. He stares at me, watching the thin bead of blood run down my hand.
Slowly, he pulls the knife back. A smile curls across his mouth.
"A tablet," he repeats. He looks at the guard. "Get me a phone."
He dials, putting it on speaker.
"Speak." Konstantin's voice fills the warehouse. Lethal.
"Konstantin," Moretti says. "It seems we need to update our files. Your wife was just telling me that her thumbprint is obsolete."
Silence. Then, a crash echoes down the line, the sound of a glass shattering against a wall.
"Moretti?" Konstantin's voice is a low snarl. "If you’ve touched her?—"
