Chapter 3

Val POV

The heavy, soundproof door of Lorenzo's office swung shut, its locking mechanism engaging with a solid thud that severed us from the world outside. The air within the room was stagnant, charged with the promise of violence. "What is this?" Lorenzo demanded, his voice low. Gianni scrambled to speak, his hands gesturing wildly. "A misunderstanding, Lorenzo, I swear," he pleaded. "Val is overworked. Hysterical. The operation was a joint effort." I stepped forward. My voice was soft, yet it cut through his frantic excuses. "His direction consisted of selecting my drafts." I held Lorenzo's gaze. "He then forwarded them to the Underboss, claiming my work for himself and his fiancée." Gianni's face, already pale, flushed a dark, mottled red. "Shut your mouth, Val!" he shouted. His bluster, however, was a poor shield against the plain truth. Lorenzo's brow furrowed, his eyes settling on Gianni with a look of profound disgust. He turned back to me, his expression hardening. "And you chose this method—this public spectacle—to air your grievance?" "When loyalty is treated as a liability, silence becomes complicity," I answered. I reached into my jacket and produced a sealed white envelope. "My work was stolen to advance a parasite. I am merely correcting the record." I placed the envelope on his mahogany desk. "This is my formal severance from the Famiglia. My involvement with Operation Daybreak is concluded." Before walking into this office, I had uploaded an encrypted dead-man's switch. If I failed to check in within twelve hours, every piece of evidence—the theft, the embezzlement, Gianni's incompetence—would auto-forward to the Commission. I wasn't walking out defenseless. I was walking out with insurance. "Are you insane?" Gianni breathed, his voice a strangled whisper. Lorenzo stared at the envelope, his composure finally cracking to reveal a flicker of disbelief. "You do not simply walk away. I will deal with Gianni." He stepped around the desk, his tone shifting. "I will give you a protected position. Your mind is too valuable to lose." "I respectfully decline," I said, taking a step back. "My departure is final." Without another word, I turned my back on the Capo and walked out of the office. I headed straight to my desk and began to methodically pack my few personal effects into a small cardboard box. Gianni caught up to me in the corridor, his fingers digging into my wrist like talons. "You selfish bitch!" he snarled, his breath hot and sour against my face. "You will not survive a week out there!" I wrenched my arm from his grasp. "I am taking back what is mine," I said, my voice low and contemptuous. "A man who uses my labor to buy diamonds for another woman is the one who stands to lose everything." I adjusted my grip on my box and walked toward the fortified elevator, not giving him the satisfaction of a backward glance. The elevator doors opened onto the ground floor. Francesca was waiting in the lobby, clutching a new designer handbag. She positioned herself directly in my path, forcing me to a halt. A long moment passed before the heavy stairwell door burst open and Gianni stumbled into the lobby, panting from his sprint down the stairs. Francesca immediately looped her arm through his. Her eyes fell to my box, a look of feigned surprise on her face. "You did a fine job, for a time," she said, her smile cloying. "But I will be taking care of him now." Gianni swallowed, his gaze fixed on a point over my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Val," he choked out. He sounded small, his voice a reedy thing. I did not pause. I did not look at them. I walked straight out of the reinforced doors and into the unforgiving glare of the midday sun. As the doors sealed behind me, my personal phone vibrated in my pocket. It was an alert from a dark web monitor I had set weeks ago. The Salvatore Syndicate was looking for a new architect.

And I was going to give them something far more dangerous than they'd ever imagined.