Page 39

I slide behind the wheel. My wounded arm screams in protest as I grip the steering wheel, blood soaking through my sleeve and dripping onto my jeans. No options. We need to go. Now.
The engine sputters once, twice before roaring back to life. Metal groans as I force the damaged car into gear, tires spinning before finding purchase on the blood-slicked pavement.
"Oh my God," Melania whispers beside me, her voice thin and reedy.
"Oh my God, oh my God." Her entire body trembles, fine tremors that shake the laptop in her white-knuckled grip. "You're bleeding. There's blood everywhere."
"Breathe," I tell her, not taking my eyes off the road as I push the almost-wrecked Maserati to its limits. The car pulls slightly to the right—alignment fucked from the impact—but it's stilldrivable. "Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
"They were going to kill us," she says, her voice cracking. "Not capture. Kill."
"Yes." No point lying to her. "They don't want you back. They want you silenced."
Her breathing comes in shallow gasps, the beginning of panic. I need her operational, not hysterical.
"Melania." I say her name sharply, cutting through her spiral. "Focus. Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, still trembling. "N-no. Just... oh God."
"Good. Now breathe and get it together. We're not dead yet."
The Maserati tears down the empty road, putting distance between us and the wreckage behind. Blood continues to seep from my arm but the wound is superficial—a graze, nothing more. It can wait.
I glance at Melania. Her face is ghost-white in the dashboard lights, but her breathing has steadied somewhat. She's in shock but holding it together now. Tough little thing.
"They found us," she whispers.
The Maserati's engine hums as we race through the night.
Ten minutes pass in suffocating silence. The only sounds are Alessio's controlled breathing.
"Did they find us through the USB?" Alessio finally asks, his voice tight with pain.
My stomach drops as realization washes over me. "Yes," I whisper, the word barely audible. "I underestimated Raymond."
Alessio's jaw tightens as he takes a sharp turn, the car's damaged alignment making the steering wheel fight against his grip.
"I never thought he’d use government resources to hack me back," I continue, the words tumbling out faster now. "I thought he wouldn't risk someone seeing what he hides on that drive. But then again..." My voice cracks. "He could just kill anyone who saw it."
I twist my mother's ring frantically, spinning it around my finger until the skin underneath turns raw.
"I was stupid," I say, self-loathing burning in my chest. "So fucking stupid. I should have been more careful. I should have known he'd have backdoor access. I should have?—"
"Blaming someone now won't help," Alessio cuts me off, his voice firm but not unkind. "Not you, not me, not even that bastard Raymond."
He glances at me, dark eyes flashing in the dashboard lights. "What we need to focus on is what we're going to do from now on."
I take a deep breath, forcing my brain to shift from panic to planning. He's right. Self-recrimination won't save us from the next attack.
"I need to rebuild our digital security from scratch," I say, my mind already scrambling through encryption protocols. "Different hardware, different approach."
Alessio nods, wincing slightly as he adjusts his grip on the wheel. "And the USB?"
"I'll need to create an air-gapped system. Completely isolated." I clutch the laptop tighter. "And we need to hide again."
"Already on it," Alessio says, checking the rearview mirror for the hundredth time. "But first we need to ditch this car."
Alessio reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. With one hand still on the wheel, he punches in a number, then puts it on speaker.