Page 66 of Merciless Daddy

His pause told me enough.

“One involving more guns,” I said.

“A lot more guns.”

“And more of my father’s men dying.”

“Possibly.”

Tonio’s expression sobered. “This window of opportunity will close. By daylight, Lev increases the guard. He may move Kiryl. Gianni may insist on it.”

The thought landed hard.

Gianni would move him somewhere I did not know. Somewhere without staff. Somewhere my knowledge meant nothing.

I bent over the plan.

“Your entrance is wrong,” I said.

Pietro came closer. “Show me.”

“The catering crews don’t use this door anymore. It sticks in winter and opens directly toward the guard station. They use the loading bay beside the kitchen.” I traced the route. “You come through here. Past dry storage. Not through the main kitchen. Svetlana—the house cook—will still be awake if the collection is happening. She knows every regular worker.”

“No names,” Sal said quietly, reminding me of operational discipline.

I corrected myself. “The cook knows every regular worker. If she sees Tonio, she’ll remember him.”

“Most women do,” Tonio said, with a grin.

Pietro looked at him. “My god, Tonio.”

“What? This is relevant.”

I moved my finger along the paper. “The passage behind the wine cellar avoids the kitchen. It is narrow. There’s a turn here that isn’t shown. Then the old flower room. Then the east stairs.”

Pietro made notes.

My pulse had accelerated. Not panic now. Purpose.

I knew this house. Every door that swelled in rain. Every board that complained. Every camera my father believed no one noticed.

Sal watched me across the plan.

“You may still say no,” he said.

I met his eyes. He meant it.

He had created an opportunity and handed the final choice back to me. No debt in his voice. No accusation. No statement that a good sister would do it.

The decision sat in my hands.

Mine.

I looked down at the blue room marked on the plan.

“Give me that earpiece,” I said.

At one fifty-eight, Angela’s voice entered my ear from Chicago even though she was only a few miles away, routed through military-grade encryption.