Page 72 of His Assistant

“No,” she says immediately.

“Chiara.”

“If this is about Sofia, I’m staying.”

I do not have time to argue with my sister. “Say it.”

Rafe turns his phone toward me. It’s displaying a system log. Service security access for one Tomasso Vieri.

My body goes still.

Behind me, Tomasso says nothing. That is almost enough to give him away.

I want to turn around. I want to put my hand around his throat and drive his head through the nearest monitor. I want him bleeding on the floor before he has time to explain himself. Then I see Sofia stepping into that car again. I see the door opening. I see her getting inside because grief made her reckless.

Killing Tomasso won’t bring her back. Keeping him alive and pretending nothing’s wrong might.

I take Rafe’s phone from his hand and keep my face still.

“Security dispatch,” I say.

Rafe’s eyes flick to mine.

He understands in half a second.

“Looks that way,” he says.

“Then we start there,” I say. “Every man on that shift gets pulled. Phones, cars, bank accounts, everything.”

Luca swallows hard. “Yes, sir.”

“Now.”

He turns back to the keyboard with shaking hands.

Chiara looks between Rafe and me. She knows me too well. She knows when I’m angry, but more than that, she knows when I’m hiding it. Her eyes narrow slightly, but she says nothing.

Tomasso steps closer. “Security dispatch had access?”

I turn toward him slowly. He looks concerned.

“It appears so,” I tell him.

“That explains the safe house too.”

I stare at him until he looks away first.

“Find the car,” I tell Rafe. “Every street camera within eight blocks. Private feeds. Traffic feeds. ATMs. Doorbells. If it has a lens, I want it.”

Rafe nods and moves toward the table, phone already in hand. I follow him out of the security room. Tomasso moves with us.

“Stay here,” I tell him.

He stops. “Why?”

I step closer. Not enough to touch him. Enough to remind him who I am.

“The mother of my child just got into a stranger’s car after her father was kidnapped. If I tell you to stand in a corner and count the fucking lights, you will ask me what number to stop at. Do we understand each other?”