“Chloe?”
“I hate this plan.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Three,” Leo muttered.
Matteo ignored him.
Chloe agreed.
What followed happened quickly because Matteo’s world operated that way once a decision had been made.
No speeches.
No celebration.
Instructions moved through the warehouse in clipped sentences.
A false location was fed through the same intelligence channel that had identified Sophie as Chloe.
Another location was kept private.
Chloe was told where to bring the bonds.
Leo coordinated movement while Matteo personally controlled who learned which detail.
Sophie watched from a chair that was no longer a prison but did not yet feel like safety.
She drank the rest of the black coffee.
It had gone cold.
Hours later, confirmation arrived.
The false location had drawn attention almost immediately.
Not police.
Not Chloe.
The same hostile network that had repeatedly appeared around Romano operations shifted toward it.
Matteo did not explain how his people knew.
Sophie did not ask.
She did not need the violent details of his business to understand the result.
The information channel was compromised.
And the person who had directed Matteo toward Sophie’s apartment was connected to it.
The kidnapping had not merely been an error.
It had been useful to somebody.
Matteo’s enemies had expected rage to do what analysis might not: keep him focused on Chloe while the larger betrayal continued.
Instead, Sophie had changed the equation.
By dawn, Chloe had returned every bond.
Matteo counted them twice.
Sophie stood beside her sister in another secure room, studying the woman who shared her face and almost none of her instincts.
Chloe looked exhausted.
Dark hair tangled.
Green eyes rimmed red.
Coat damp from the rain.
“You look terrible,” Chloe said.
Sophie stared at her.
“I was kidnapped because of you.”
“I know.”
“You used my address.”
“I know.”
“Armed men broke into my apartment.”
“I said I know.”
Sophie waited.
Chloe’s mouth trembled.
Then, finally, the performance dropped away.
“I’m sorry.”
Sophie had imagined hearing those words from her sister hundreds of times over the years.
They did not repair anything.
But they mattered.
Matteo entered with Leo behind him.
“The count is complete,” he said.
Chloe stiffened.
