Broken Threads

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Anika

Revenge was supposed to taste like victory.

Instead, it tasted like burnt coffee and the lingering scent of him, expensive cologne and arrogance, soaked into the sheets of my bed.

I stared at the blueprints spread across the kitchen table, my fingers tracing the weak points of the Voss headquarters like a surgeon mapping an incision. His mother's company. There. The security blind spot near the east loading dock. There. The outdated firewall in their accounting division. And there-the real prize-the private server room where she kept her dirty laundry. Metaphorically. "You're plotting."

Elian's voice came from behind me, rough with sleep. I didn't turn. I didn't need to. I could feel him leaning against the doorframe, still cuffed, still infuriatingly smug. "Obviously," I said, circling a floor plan with red marker. "Let me guess." He shuffled closer, the silk restraints forcing him into an awkward half-hobble. "You're going to... hack the mainframe? Steal company secrets? Maybe release a flock of rabid pigeons in the lobby?"

I finally looked up. "Pigeons?" He shrugged. "Dramatic flair." I rolled my eyes and turned back to the plans. "I'm shutting down the Cyprus deal." Silence.

Then-

"Ah." His voice went flat. "So you did find the files."

Oh, I found them. Buried in his mother's encrypted servers, a trail of shell companies and bribes leading straight to the kind of scandal that could topple empires. The Cyprus deal wasn't just business-it was blood money, wrapped in a pretty legal bow.

I tapped the blueprint. "she has been funneling arms through your shipping subsidiaries. Which, congratulations, is almost as cliché as it is illegal." Elian's jaw tightened. "I told her it was a mistake." "And yet," I said sweetly, "here we are." He exhaled through his nose. "Anika, if you leak this-" "When I leak it," I corrected, "your mother loses her fortune, her reputation, and possibly her freedom. And you?" I smiled. "You get to watch." For a second, I thought he'd argue. Plead. Maybe even fight.

Instead, he laughed. It wasn't the reaction I wanted. "What's funny?" I snapped. "You." He shook his head. "You think this ends with some grand expose? A few headlines, a perp walk, and poof-Isabella Moretti vanishes?" He leaned in, close enough that I could see the waves of ocean in his stupid, beautiful eyes. "She'll burn the world down before she lets you win." I met his gaze. "Good thing I brought matches."

A beat. Then-

"Christ, you're terrifying." He said it almost fondly. I ignored the warmth in my chest. "Here's how this goes. Tomorrow, I send the files to every major news outlet, regulator, and rival company with a grudge. By noon, your mother's lawyers will be in panic mode. By dusk, the board will be calling for your head." I tilted my head. "Unless, of course, you stop me." His brow furrowed. "How?" I slid a knife across the table. He stared at it. Then at me. "...Are you daring me to stab you?" "I'm daring you to choose." I pressed my palms to the wood, leaning in. "Cut your restraints. Walk out. Go warn her. Or-" I nudged the blade closer. "Stay. And watch it happen." The air between us crackled. Elian didn't move.

Then, slowly, he reached for the knife-

-and flipped it handle-first toward me. "Keep it," he said. "I'd rather you armed when Lydia comes for you." I blinked. "...That's not an answer." "Sure it is." He leaned back, grinning. "I love terrible ideas." I should've been furious. Instead, I smiled.

The doorbell rang at exactly 3:17 PM.

I knew who it was before I even looked through the peephole.

Matteo Bianchi stood on my porch, impeccably dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, his expression as unreadable as a Swiss bank account. He held a single black briefcase in one hand and a bottle of 25-year Macallan in the other-Elian's favorite.

Of course.

I exhaled through my nose, counted to three, then yanked the door open. "You're early," I said. Matteo didn't blink. "And you're holding my boss hostage." He tilted his head. "Shall we compare sins, or can I come in?" Behind me, I heard Elian's muffled laugh from the living room. Traitor.

I stepped aside.