“Why would he trust you that much?”
“Because he thinks he owns me,” I say quietly. “And that trust is exactly why this will work.”
Another pause. Then I hear her chair move, keys clicking. “Give me twenty-four hours.”
* * *
The next day passes in a blur. I stand still while fabric is pinned to a body that no longer feels like mine. The wedding planner talks about flowers and music and seating charts. I nod. Smile. Perform.
Salvatore watches me from across rooms. His gaze is heavy, searching. Twice he tries to speak to me. Twice I walk away.
It’s cruel. But cruelty is the only language this world understands.
That night, my phone buzzes.
Found him. Harbor Road. Old shipping district. Building four. Lower level. Light guard rotation. Midnight. Source is solid. Cross-referenced with two separate intercepts from the last 72 hours. Location matches a property registered under one of Vitale’s shell companies. There’s a man inside matching your father’s description. Brown coat. Gray hair. Brought in two days ago.
My hands shake as I read it again and again. Two separate intercepts. A property in Salvatore’s name. A man who looks like my father was brought in two days ago.
My father always wears a brown coat in the Spring.
That detail is the one that made me get in the car. That’s the one I can’t explain away.
Are you sure? I type.
As sure as it gets. My source has been reliable so far—never burned me once. But it’s still risky, Val. Please don’t go alone.
I picture what a federal raid would look like. Chaos. Panic. A stray bullet.
No. I’m going alone.
Val…
They won’t touch me.
A long pause.
I’ll be tracking you. If you go dark, I send everyone.
Understood.
Tomorrow night, everything changes.
* * *
The midnight air is cold against my skin as I slip out through the service entrance. Dark jeans. A black jacket. Running shoes. For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself.
I slide into my car and the radio blares to life, loud enough to make me flinch. Right… I’d left it on after my meeting with Lindsay.
“Geez,” I mutter, quickly turning it down. The last thing I need right now is attention.
I pull out fast, tires rolling over pavement as I put distance between myself and the house. If Salvatore’s watching, and I know he is, every second counts.
I need to get to my father. Fast.
Building four waits exactly where Lindsay said it would. Concrete. Dark. Two cars parked outside.
I park two blocks away and sit in the dark for a moment, hands on the wheel.
