Chapter 5 Eva Moretti's POV

Eva Moretti's POV

The closer I get to the truth, the faster the noose tightens.

But I wasn't raised to run.

I was raised to finish what my father started.

I count the cameras.

One above the entrance. Two angled in the corridor. One by the stairwell.

Only one blind spot.

I slip into it like a ghost.

Black hoodie. Soft soles. Gloves.

The east wing feels like it's holding its breath. No maids. No guards. Not even a flicker of movement.

That should've been my first warning.

I pause outside the archive room door.

Breathe.

Then I pull out the keycard I stole from Giada's office two nights ago.

A click.

The lock disengages.

I'm in.

The room smells of dust and ink. Stale secrets.

Files line the shelves in alphabetical order. I don't have time to browse.

I go straight to the drawer marked C-F and pull.

Conte.

My father's name used to carry weight here. Before he burned it to ash.

My hands shake as I flip through the folders.

"Come on," I whisper. "Come on, come on-"

Then I found it.

Salvatore Conte: Case Report 0281-R.

Photos. Wiretap transcriptions. A list of names.

I stuff it all into my satchel, then freeze.

Footsteps.

I duck behind a shelf.

Footsteps get closer. Slow. Measured.

Whoever it is isn't rushing.

They know I'm here.

I hold my breath.

The doorknob turns.

My fingers tighten around the small blade hidden in my sleeve.

The door creaks open.

"Looking for bedtime stories?"

That voice.

Alessio.

I rise from behind the shelf, blade still in hand.

He sees it and laughs.

"You gonna stab me with that letter opener, principessa?"

"I'll do more than stab if you don't step back."

He closes the door behind him.

"You're getting sloppy," he says. "Camera at the north stairwell caught your reflection."

I curse under my breath. "You followed me."

"Actually, I intercepted you."

I move to leave, but he blocks the exit.

"You're not stopping me."

"Depends. What exactly are you trying to find in my father's archives?"

I pause.

Then lie. "Evidence."

"Of?"

"I don't owe you answers."

He leans against the shelf, arms crossed. "No. But you do owe me your life."

"Excuse me?"

"That bullet last night?" he says. "It had your name on it. I made it miss."

I glare at him. "So now I owe you loyalty?"

"No," he says. "You owe me honesty."

I take a breath. "Fine. You want the truth?"

"Try me."

"My name's not Eva Moretti. It's Evelina Conte."

He doesn't blink.

"I'm here because your father helped destroy my family. I need proof to clear my father's name and maybe... maybe I want revenge too."

Still, he doesn't speak.

"What? No threats? No gun to my head?"

He stares at me like he's peeling back every layer I have.

"Your father was a traitor," he says finally.

"No. He was framed."

"By who?"

"Don Marco. Your precious father."

Alessio exhales slowly, like a bomb went off in his chest.

"You don't know what you're playing with."

"Oh, I know exactly. I grew up with a gun under my pillow."

"You think you're the only one who lost someone?" he snaps. "I buried friends because of your father's leak."

"I don't believe he leaked anything."

"You don't want to believe it."

"No. I know what betrayal looks like. And I know your father's fingerprints are all over it."

We stare each other down.

My pulse is a war drum.

Then he says, quieter, "If Don Marco finds out what you just told me-"

"He already suspects me."

"Then you're dead."

I step closer. "Then help me."

"You're insane."

"Maybe. But you're the only one who hasn't tried to kill me yet."

His jaw tightens. "I'm not on your side."

"Then stop looking at me like you want to be."

That shuts him up.

He moves aside, just enough for me to slip past.

But I stop at the door.

"Why did you follow me?" I ask.

He hesitates.

Then says, "Because if someone else had, you'd already be in a body bag."

That sends a chill down my spine.

"Next time," he adds, "don't use my name on the access logs."

My eyes snap to his.

"I didn't."

His expression darkens.

"Then someone wants you exposed."

We walk fast through the back hallway, toward the laundry chute. It's the only way to bypass the cameras now.

"What did you take?" he asks.

I tighten my grip on my satchel. "Enough to burn your father's empire."

"Then you better hide it well."

I stop short. "Why are you helping me?"

"I'm not," he says. "I'm trying to figure out if saving you is a mistake."

"You want me gone?"

"I want answers."

"Well," I mutter, "so does everyone."

We reach the chute.

I open the panel. Cold air rushes out.

"I'll buy you five minutes," Alessio says. "That's all I can risk."

I pause.

Then, without thinking, I press a kiss to his cheek.

Not romantic.

Desperate. Grateful. Real.

He blinks.

"Eva-"

"Thank you," I whisper.

Then I slide down the chute and vanish into the dark.

I landed in a pile of linens in the sub-basement. My shoulder hits metal.

I wince, climbing out.

"Two minutes," I whisper. "Hide the files, then move."

I sprint down the corridor to the old furnace room. It's off-grid, no surveillance.

I reach the back wall and pry open the loose brick.

It's still there.

My stash spot.

I fold the file into layers, tuck it inside a weatherproof pouch, and shove it deep into the hollow.

Then I replaced the brick.

Breathe.

Done.

I start back toward the hall-

When I hear a voice.

Low. Male.

"Copy that. She just dropped something off in the basement."

My blood freezes.

A second voice responds. "Orders?"

"Don said to let her think she's in control. Then bring her in."

No.

No no no.

I pull back into the shadows, heart racing.

They knew.

The whole time.

Alessio didn't just intercept me.

He directed.

My hands shake as I pull out my burner phone.

One signal. Just one.

I hit send.

Code Red. They're onto me. Backup needed. 48 hours max.

No response.

Dead line.

I swallow hard.

Then I hear a third voice.

Close.

Too close.

"She was right here."

A beam of a flashlight sweeps across the corridor.

Boots. Three pairs.

One guard lifts his radio. "Target's moving. Heading toward the tunnel exit. East stairwell."

They think I'm running that way.

Good.

Let them.

I pivot.

And crawl into the narrow air duct above the old water tank.

But as I slide the grate shut behind me...

A face peers through the opposite end.

Not a guard.

Not Alessio.

Luciana.

Smiling.

Holding a gun.

"I was wondering when we'd finally meet without an audience," she says sweetly.

"And here I thought you'd only stab people with stilettos," I whisper.

Luciana cocks the pistol.

"I'm full of surprises