Nick
There will be a car waiting when you land. Romano's villa is forty minutes outside Naples. Zara's pulling surveillance now.
Me
Thank you.
Nick
You want backup? I can send someone.
Me
No.
Nick
Stop being stubborn.
Me
I said no.
I setthe phone facedown on the armrest and close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. It never does anymore. Just her face. The boy's curl. And the countless questions swirling around my head.
Why send the lockbox after all this time? Why didn't she tell me about him? Did she think I would harm my own child? Why leave breadcrumbs if she wanted to stay hidden?
Unless she didn't send the lockbox and someone else did.
This fucking ordeal has stripped me down to raw nerve.
It's not the lack of control that's destroying me. I know nothing is ever truly within our grasp but what I can't handle is the not knowing. I've built my entire life around being seven steps ahead, around having answers before anyone else knows there are questions to ask. Control isn't something I cling to out of ego. It's the only thing that's ever kept me alive.
I'm spiraling, and I hate it.
I just need to stay focused, knowing I'll have answers soon enough.
The plane dips slightly, adjusting course. The pilot's voice crackles over the intercom—something about descent and arrival time. I tune it out, counting down the hours until I'm standing in front of Matteo Romano.
FOUR
TRISTAN
The salty sea air fills my lungs the second I step out of the car. In Naples, the houses cling to the hillside like they're trying to escape the ground. The one I'm headed toward doesn't bother. It squats at the top of the road, pale stone with shuttered windows and too many cameras.
The Black Door has always liked its metaphors.
"Last chance to turn around," Nick says in my ear.
The line crackles. He and Zara are the only two I trust—have been since we ran ops together in a life that feels like a hundred years ago. Most people have a right hand. I have two, because redundancy isn't paranoia when everyone's trying to kill you. We move like a single unit, think three steps ahead of each other, finish sentences and missions with the same efficiency. They built the crew for this operation, vetted every member, but I'll only deal with them directly.
Everyone else is expendable.
"You know I can't do that. Can you stop being like an overprotective mother?"
A soft chuckle. "And you know I can't do that."
I roll my eyes, and he continues with his lecture. "You and I both know these people don't smuggle drugs in cratesanymore—they use corpses. Dead bodies, Tristan. Tax benefits and a place no one checks twice."
