Chapter 7 The Hidden Room

Two days after the engagement party, Sofia found herself alone in the Romano family compound for the first time since beginning her undercover operation. Dante had reluctantly left for a business meeting in Atlantic City, Vincent was at his weekly dinner with other crime bosses, and most of the household staff had been given the afternoon off. It was the perfect opportunity to search for the kind of evidence that would make or break the FBI's case.

The Romano compound in Bay Ridge was a fortress disguised as a family home-three stories of classic Italian architecture surrounded by high walls, security cameras, and guards who carried automatic weapons beneath their tailored suits. But Sofia had spent weeks observing the security patterns, and she knew that the third floor study, Vincent Romano's private office, would be temporarily unguarded while the afternoon shift change occurred.

She climbed the marble staircase wearing yoga clothes and carrying a water bottle, looking like a future daughter-in-law taking advantage of the home gym Dante had shown her. But instead of turning toward the exercise room, Sofia picked the lock on Vincent's study door with tools concealed in her hair tie.

The study was exactly what she'd expected from a man who ruled an empire through violence and intimidation. Dark wood paneling, leather-bound books that probably hadn't been read, oil paintings of Sicilian landscapes, and a massive desk that dominated the room like a throne. But Sofia wasn't interested in the obvious displays of power-she was looking for the hidden compartments where Vincent would keep his most sensitive documents.

She started with the classic hiding places: behind paintings, inside book spines, under desk drawers. Nothing. Then she moved to more sophisticated options, running her hands along the walls looking for concealed panels or electronic locks. The FBI had trained her to think like a paranoid criminal, to imagine where she would hide evidence if she were running a multi-million dollar criminal enterprise.

After twenty minutes of careful searching, Sofia was beginning to think Vincent kept all his important records elsewhere when she noticed something odd about the vintage map of Sicily hanging behind his desk. The frame was slightly thicker than it should be, and when she pressed against the lower right corner, she heard a soft click.

The map swung open like a door, revealing a hidden safe with an electronic keypad.

Sofia's pulse quickened as she pulled out the miniature camera concealed in her water bottle cap. Even if she couldn't crack the safe, photographing its existence would prove that Vincent Romano was hiding significant evidence. But as she focused the camera, she noticed something that made her blood freeze.

The electronic keypad was showing a green light, indicating the safe was already unlocked.

Someone had opened it recently and failed to secure it properly. Sofia could either photograph the closed safe as evidence of its existence, or take the enormous risk of opening it to see what Vincent Romano considered worth hiding behind multiple layers of security.

She opened the safe.

The contents were more damaging than anything the FBI had dared hope for. Bank records from seventeen different offshore accounts, shipping manifests for weapons purchased from Eastern European arms dealers, detailed logs of political bribes dating back fifteen years, and-most shocking of all-a leather journal written in Vincent's own handwriting that documented every murder he'd personally ordered since 1995.

Sofia's hands shook as she photographed page after page of evidence that would not only convict Vincent Romano of dozens of felonies, but would implicate senators, judges, police commissioners, and FBI officials in the largest corruption scandal in American history.

And then she found the folder labeled "Lucia Castellano Investigation."

Her own fake name written in Vincent's precise handwriting. Sofia opened the folder with hands that had gone completely numb, knowing that she was about to discover whether her cover was still intact or whether she was already a dead woman walking.

The investigation was thorough and professional. Birth certificate, school records, employment history, medical files-all the carefully constructed documentation the FBI had created to support her false identity. But at the bottom of the folder was a single sheet of paper with a Swiss coroner's seal and a death certificate dated six months earlier.

Lucia Castellano had died in a skiing accident in Zermatt, Switzerland. The real Lucia Castellano, not the fictional FBI creation, but an actual woman whose identity Sofia had assumed.

Vincent Romano knew his son was engaged to a dead woman.

Sofia photographed the death certificate with hands that wouldn't stop trembling, her mind racing through the implications. If Vincent knew she was an imposter, why hadn't he killed her already? Why allow the engagement to proceed? Why let her into his home, his family, his most private spaces?

Unless he was planning something worse than simple execution.

"Fascinating reading?"

Sofia spun toward the voice and found Vincent Romano standing in the study doorway, his silver hair perfectly styled, his expression calm and almost amused. In his right hand he carried a .38 revolver with the casual ease of a man who'd killed many people with the same weapon.

"Mr. Romano," Sofia said, forcing her voice to remain steady while her mind calculated distances to windows, doors, potential weapons. "I was looking for a book to read while Dante was away. I'm sorry if I wandered into a private area."

"Please," Vincent said mildly, closing the door behind him and turning the lock. "We both know exactly why you're here and what you've been doing for the past thirty minutes. The question is whether you're FBI, CIA, DEA, or working for one of my competitors."

Sofia maintained her confused innocent act even though she knew it was pointless. "I really don't understand what you're accusing me of-"

"Lucia Castellano died six months ago in a skiing accident," Vincent interrupted, walking slowly toward his desk while keeping the gun trained on Sofia's center mass. "Which means you're either a remarkably dedicated imposter, or you've achieved the rare distinction of coming back from the dead."

Sofia's mind raced through options. Deny everything and hope he was bluffing? Confess and try to negotiate? Attack and hope three years of FBI training could overcome his sixty years of survival instincts?

"The real question," Vincent continued conversationally, "isn't who sent you or what agency you work for. The real question is why I've allowed this charade to continue for so long."

That caught Sofia off guard. "What do you mean?"

Vincent smiled, and the expression was genuinely fond rather than threatening. "I mean I've known you were an imposter since the day you arrived, my dear. Roberto Castellano confirmed that his niece was dead when I called to verify the engagement arrangements. But I decided to let you continue your little performance because I was curious about your endgame."

Sofia felt the world shift beneath her feet. Everything she'd believed about the success of her undercover operation, every carefully constructed lie, every moment of growing intimacy with Dante-it had all been theater performed for an audience that knew she was acting.

"You knew," she whispered.

"Of course I knew. I've survived sixty years in this business by never trusting anyone completely and always verifying everything independently." Vincent settled into his desk chair, gun still pointed at Sofia but his manner relaxed. "What I didn't know was whether you were here to gather intelligence, plant evidence, or simply get close enough to assassinate key family members."

"And now?"

"Now I've watched you for weeks, observed your interactions with my family, studied your behavioral patterns." Vincent opened a desk drawer with his free hand and withdrew a thick manila folder. "And I've reached some interesting conclusions about your true identity and motivations."

Sofia's blood turned to ice as Vincent opened the folder and began reading from what was obviously a comprehensive intelligence report.

"Sofia Martinez, age twenty-eight, Special Agent with the FBI's Organized Crime Task Force. Graduated from John Jay College of Criminal Justice, specialized training in undercover operations, three confirmed kills in the line of duty." Vincent looked up at her over the folder. "Impressive credentials for someone pretending to be a Swiss finishing school graduate."

The game was over. Sofia had been caught, identified, and trapped by a man who'd made killing his life's work. She was going to die in this study, probably after being tortured for information about FBI operations and the location of other undercover agents.

But instead of despair, Sofia felt an odd sense of relief. No more lies, no more deception, no more falling in love with a man she was supposed to betray.

"What happens now?" she asked quietly.

"That depends on your answer to a very simple question," Vincent replied. "Are you still working for the FBI, or have your feelings for my son compromised your professional loyalty?"

Sofia stared at him, confused by the question and its implications. "What difference does that make?"

"All the difference in the world," Vincent said softly. "Because if you're still a dedicated federal agent, I'll have to kill you to protect my family. But if you've genuinely fallen in love with Dante and are willing to choose him over your duty..." He smiled. "Then perhaps we can reach an understanding."

Sofia's mind reeled. Vincent Romano wasn't just threatening her-he was offering her a choice. Betray the FBI and truly become part of his criminal family, or die as a law enforcement officer.

"Why would you trust me to make that choice?"

"Because I've watched you with my son for three weeks, and I recognize real emotion when I see it. You didn't expect to fall in love with Dante, but you have. The question is whether that love is strong enough to overcome a lifetime of dedication to law and order."

Vincent leaned forward, his expression intent. "I'm offering you a chance to disappear Sofia Martinez forever and become Lucia Castellano permanently. False identity, new life, genuine marriage to a man you've come to care for. All you have to do is choose family loyalty over federal duty."

Sofia stared at the man who was simultaneously threatening her life and offering her everything she'd never known she wanted. The chance to stop lying, stop pretending, stop betraying people she'd grown to care about. The chance to build something real with Dante Romeo, even if that reality was built on a foundation of crime and violence.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you'll suffer the same fate as every other federal agent who's tried to infiltrate my family." Vincent's voice hardened. "You'll disappear completely, and the FBI will spend years searching for an agent who no longer exists."

Sofia closed her eyes and thought about Agent Torres, about her oath to serve and protect, about three years of hunting criminals and bringing them to justice. Then she thought about Dante's smile, his protective instincts, his dream of transforming his family's operations into something legitimate.

When she opened her eyes, Vincent Romano was watching her with the patience of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.

"I need time to think," Sofia said finally.

"Of course you do. It's not a decision to be made lightly." Vincent returned the gun to his desk drawer but kept his hand near it. "Take twenty-four hours. But understand that once you make your choice, there's no changing your mind. Choose the FBI, and you die. Choose my family, and Sofia Martinez dies instead."

Vincent stood and walked toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and Miss Martinez? Dante doesn't know about your true identity yet. Whether he ever finds out depends on the choice you make tomorrow."

As the door closed behind him, Sofia sank into the leather chair opposite Vincent's desk, her legs suddenly too weak to support her. The evidence she'd photographed could destroy the Romano family, but using it would mean destroying Dante as well. And choosing Dante would mean betraying everything she'd sworn to protect as an FBI agent.

Sofia Martinez had never faced an impossible choice before.

Now she had twenty-four hours to decide which version of herself would survive.