By morning, Sloane understood something important about Adrian Vale’s mansion.
The locks weren’t there to keep people out.
They were there to control who could move inside.
Adrian doubled the guards.
Nobody entered without being searched.
Nobody left without permission.
And Leo, the man who had grabbed Sloane off the street, was nowhere to be found.
“Did you kill him?” Sloane asked over breakfast.
Adrian looked up from his coffee.
“No.”
“Is that a reassuring no or a technically accurate no?”
“He’s being questioned.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It probably is.”
Sloane pushed scrambled eggs around her plate.
Meatball sat beneath Adrian’s chair.
The traitor.
Within twelve hours, the cat had decided the terrifying mafia boss was acceptable because Adrian had given him turkey.
“You’re bribing my cat.”
“He has good instincts.”
“He ate a dryer sheet once.”
Adrian looked down at Meatball.
“I withdraw my statement.”
Sloane tried not to smile.
That was becoming a problem.
Adrian was easier to hate when he was simply the man who had kept her prisoner.
But now she had seen him order a guard to drive across Chicago for her cat.
She had watched him work until four in the morning trying to figure out who had endangered her.
She had seen him quietly cover her with a blanket when he thought she was asleep at the desk.
None of that erased what he was.
But it complicated it.
After breakfast, Daniel brought Leo in.
Leo looked exhausted.
“I didn’t set her up,” he said immediately.
Adrian stood by the fireplace.
“Then explain.”
Leo swallowed.
“We got the order through Matteo.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Matteo gave you the location?”
“Yes.”
Sloane looked between them.
“Who’s Matteo?”
Adrian answered without taking his eyes off Leo.
“My cousin.”
Matteo Vale had grown up with Adrian.
Their fathers were brothers.
After Adrian’s father died, Matteo had become one of the few people Adrian trusted completely.
He handled logistics, security, and sensitive communications.
Including Adrian’s authorization codes.
Sloane felt the pieces aligning.
“Where is he?”
“Coming here,” Adrian said.
“Does he know we suspect him?”
“No.”
Twenty minutes later, Matteo arrived.
He looked nothing like Sloane expected.
No obvious menace.
No cold stare.
He was handsome, polished, charming.
He entered carrying flowers.
“For our accidental guest.”
Sloane didn’t take them.
Matteo smiled.
“Smart.”
Adrian watched from across the room.
“Why did you tell Leo to grab her?”
Matteo’s smile disappeared.
“I told him to grab Sloan O’Donnell.”
“You gave him Sloane Jenkins’s location.”
“No.”
Leo stepped forward.
“That’s the address you sent.”
Matteo shook his head.
“Then somebody changed it.”
Sloane watched him.
Bookkeeping had taught her something about liars.
People thought numbers exposed dishonesty.
Usually, behavior did.
Matteo was too calm.
Not relaxed.
Prepared.
“You know what I do for a living?” she asked.
He looked at her.
“Bookkeeper.”
“What company?”
“Marlowe.”
Too fast.
Sloane smiled faintly.
“Interesting.”
Matteo frowned.
“What?”
“Most people would say accountant.”
“I was briefed.”
“By whom?”
Silence.
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
Matteo recovered.
“Your people, obviously.”
Sloane walked toward the table.
She placed three printed transaction sheets in front of him.
“Which one looks wrong?”
Matteo glanced down.
“The middle one.”
Sloane’s pulse jumped.
There was nothing visually unusual about the middle transaction.
Unless someone already knew what it represented.
Adrian noticed.
“Daniel.”
Two guards moved.
Matteo stepped backward.
Then everything happened quickly.
He reached beneath his jacket.
Adrian crossed the distance before the gun cleared the holster.
The weapon hit the marble floor.
Daniel forced Matteo against the table.
Matteo stopped struggling.
Then he laughed.
“You really think I’m the problem?”
Adrian grabbed his collar.
“You used my authorization.”
Matteo smiled.
“You have no idea how big this is.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
Adrian’s fist tightened.
Sloane stepped closer.
“Who has Sloan O’Donnell?”
Matteo looked at her.
“She’s home.”
“Who took her?”
His smile faded.
“Ask Patrick O’Donnell.”
Adrian froze.
Matteo continued.
“You’ve been so busy thinking Patrick was your enemy that you never considered he might be getting played too.”
Sloane exchanged a look with Adrian.
That was exactly what the books suggested.
Someone was stealing from both organizations.
Someone wanted a war.
But Matteo wasn’t the mastermind.
He was frightened.
Sloane could see it now.
He had betrayed Adrian, yes.
But he was afraid of someone else.
“Who are you working for?” she asked.
Matteo’s eyes flickered toward her.
Then toward the window.
A tiny movement.
Sloane saw it.
“Adrian—”
The glass shattered.
Adrian moved before the sound finished.
He threw Sloane to the floor and covered her body with his.
A bullet struck the wall.
Guards shouted.
Another shot cracked through the room.
Matteo jerked violently.
Blood spread across his shirt.
“Move!” Daniel yelled.
Adrian dragged Sloane behind the marble table.
Security rushed toward the windows.
Then silence.
The shooter was gone.
Matteo lay on the floor.
Adrian crawled toward him.
“Matteo.”
His cousin coughed.
Blood touched his lips.
“Who?” Adrian demanded. “Who are you working for?”
Matteo’s eyes moved toward Sloane.
“He knows…”
“Who?”
“The numbers…”
His breathing broke.
“Who knows the numbers?” Sloane asked.
Matteo whispered one word.
“Marlowe.”
Then he died.
That afternoon, Adrian locked down the estate completely.
Sloane sat alone in the library.
She had watched a man die.
Whatever strange humor had helped her survive the first night was gone.
Adrian entered quietly.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
It was the right answer.
No fake reassurance.
No telling her everything would be fine.
He sat across from her.
“I’m sorry.”
“For Matteo?”
“For all of it.”
Sloane looked at him.
“You kidnapped me.”
“Yes.”
“You kept me here.”
“Yes.”
“And now somebody tried to shoot me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re terrible at comforting people.”
“I’ve been told.”
She stared at her hands.
“Was he family?”
“My cousin.”
“Were you close?”
“Once.”
Something in his voice hurt more than anger would have.
Sloane looked up.
“He betrayed you.”
“Yes.”
“But somebody killed him before he could explain why.”
Adrian nodded.
“Marlowe,” she whispered.
“My company.”
“Your boss?”
“Doug?”
“Maybe.”
Sloane thought about Doug Mercer.
Nervous Doug.
Cheap-suit Doug.
Doug, who brought grocery-store cupcakes on employee birthdays and complained when toner cost more than forty dollars.
He didn’t feel like a criminal mastermind.
But neither had Matteo.
“We need to go back.”
“No.”
“My office has physical records that aren’t on the server.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“No.”
“If Matteo died because of those records—”
“That is exactly why you’re not going.”
Sloane stood.
“You don’t get to decide everything.”
“In this situation, I do.”
“That’s your problem.”
His eyes narrowed.
“My problem?”
“You think control and protection are the same thing.”
The words landed harder than she expected.
Adrian stood.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“Then help me find the truth. Don’t lock me in a prettier cage.”
They stared at each other.
Finally, Adrian exhaled.
“We go tonight.”
Sloane blinked.
“That worked?”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
At midnight, they entered Marlowe Property Management through the underground garage.
Daniel and two guards stayed downstairs.
Adrian followed Sloane upstairs.
Her office looked untouched.
She went directly to the records room.
“Old vendor files are kept here.”
They searched for twenty minutes.
Then Sloane found a box labeled 2019 TAX ARCHIVE.
Inside were current contracts.
She pulled one out.
Marlowe Holdings.
O’Donnell Development.
Vale Security.
And a fourth company.
Mercer Strategic Group.
Sloane stared.
“Doug.”
Adrian took the document.
Then they heard footsteps.
The office lights came on.
Doug Mercer stood in the doorway.
He wasn’t wearing his usual wrinkled shirt.
He wore a dark suit.
And he was holding a gun.
“Sloane,” he said softly.
“You should’ve stayed kidnapped.”
---