Chapter 34 Slava
SLAVA
NIGHT
Alessandro is asleep. I checked on him twice—standing in his doorway like I used to when he was born, watching the rise and fall of his small chest. All to confirm with my own eyes that he is alive and safe.
That whatever horror didn’t reach him.
The dread still hasn’t faded. But a hint of relief has seeped in, chasing away the cold. But the more I speak with Lavoisier and gain a fuller picture about the security breach at L’Ecole Beaumont-sur-Loire, the more dread snakes its way back into my heart.
Bella sits beside me in my office as Lavoisier continues his report. Her hand found mine under the table twenty minutes ago, and she hasn’t let go.
A week ago, I might’ve shied away from it because even the lightest touch from her threatens to make me lose control.
But tonight, it keeps me from disappearing entirely into the frozen fury pounding in my blood. Her fingers are warm, and I can’t help but think about how our positions have reversed since Don Leo’s yacht.
There, she gripped my hand beneath the churning water before Don Leo sent her sinking into the black water of Long Island Sound.
Now I’m the one sinking, and she’s the one dragging me back from under the surface.
“The assailant entered through the east perimeter at approximately 0300,” Lavoisier says. “He bypassed two checkpoints using forged credentials. Excellent forgeries. Good enough to get him to the dormitory.”
My teeth grind together and I start seeing red. Dormitory. Where children sleep.
“He was searching specifically for your son.” Lavoisier doesn’t soften the statement. I respect him for that. “We have reasons to believe that he’d been looking for your son for quite some time now.”
The fury crystallizes in layers, each one layering onto the other. “How?”
“We detected a minor intrusion in our IT system about twelve hours ago,” Lavoisier says. “Our staff shut it down quickly enough, but not before it managed to pull a list of currently enrolled students.”
I slam my fist on the table. “I’m not paying the school this much fucking money for you to be sloppy about security!”
“I’m aware of that, Slava Danilovich.” Lavoisier rebuts. “But you of all people know that no system is foolproof. And it seems that similar intrusion attempts were taking place across all the major private schools in Europe at this time.”
“What do you mean across all the major private schools in Europe?” Bella speaks up before I can. “How could you possibly know about those?”
Lavoisier grimaces. “European regulation requires timely disclosure of cybersecurity intrusions in the event it’s nation-state actors. We weren’t the only ones impacted.”
“And was it the same information they were after?” Bella asks, and I feel a surge of pride ballooning in my chest at her need for thoroughness.
“Unfortunately, Ms. Creminelli, those same regulations also prohibit us from disclosing the exact contents accessed.” Lavoisier is getting agitated now, clearly fuming at having his own expertise being questioned by Bella.
“The only thing I can tell you is that someone sent out a continent-wide attack against school enrollment, and used that to attack us. Now, if— ”
“Tell me about the breach,” I interrupt him.
He gives Bella one quick glare, and then looks back at me.
“The infiltrator was stopped by a staff member. An Eloise Marchand. She’s worked in the dormitory for ten years now on night supervision. She encountered him in the hallway just outside of Alessandro’s room.”
“Encountered?”
“Confronted, actually,” Lavoisier says with pride. “Madame Marchand placed herself between the attacker and managed to trigger a silent alarm. But she was seriously injured in the process. We’re following up with her recovery at this time, but her prognosis is uncertain.”
Bella’s hand tightens against mine, and I nod. This Eloise Marchand almost died protecting my son.
I’ll make damn sure that she’s well taken care of.
“And then what happened?” I ask.
“My team responded within ninety seconds of Madame Marchand triggering the alarm. The assailant was subdued. He chose to resist arrest.” Lavoisier pauses for a moment. “Fatally.”
Suka blyad.
There’s a savage satisfaction in the knowledge that the bastard is dead. But there’s also frustration, because corpses don’t answer questions.
“Any other complications?”
“Several children heard the commotion and some of them woke up. But we’ve explained it as a security drill.”
“And you’re sure there was nothing you have about the assailant’s identity?” Bella asks. “Did you collect anything at all? Any personal items?”
“Nothing.”
“What about ethnicity?”
“What are you suggesting, Ms. Creminelli?”
“Answer her fucking question, Lavoisier.”
“He was Mediterranean, but that’s about all I can say with confidence.”
“Any pictures of the man? Maybe there’s something you might’ve missed that Slava could pick up.”
Lavoisier looks at her with annoyance again. But slowly, he produces a folder and opens it up to reveal photos of a body on a morgue slab. Each one is of another part of the body. Hands, feet, arms, and torso.
“No identifying tattoos as far as we can tell.”
I pick up the photos and start going through them one by one. The first one is the top down shot of the man’s body, and it’s exactly like Lavoisier says. Nothing identifying as far as we can tell.
I move onto the next, the one of the man’s hands. Also clean. Next come the arms. Clean. Feet. Clean. Then, the man’s face.
He has a brutish looking face, and even in death, his lips are arranged in what looks to be a permanent scowl. But the face is also clean.
Dammit.
“Hang on,” Bella picks up a photo taken of the man’s body from the side, and points to a tiny smear of ink on the man’s neck, just under his curly hair. “What is that?”
The tattoo is cleverly hidden under the curls. From this angle, it almost looks like four tiny dots. But when I hold it up closer, I recognize the unmistakable forked tongue and crossed keys.
“That’s a D’Ambrosio Family tattoo,” I whisper as I glance at Bella. “Good catch.”
“That would explain the intrusion attempts across all the schools in Europe,” Bella says quickly. “That must’ve been the D’Ambrosio Family looking for Alessandro. They had a name, but didn’t have a location.”
“But how?” The word is cold on my lips. “How could they have found out his name in the first place?”
Neither Lavoisier nor Bella responds.
Another layer of rage is laid upon the rest. There’s only one possible answer. Someone betrayed me. Someone who knows about my son’s existence. And whoever that someone is, he gave it to the D’Ambrosios.
My hand opens and closes, and my heart is filled with the urge to fucking kill something.
“Do you require any additional information, Slava Danilovich?”
My eyes snap towards him, and I feel Bella’s hand give my fingers a quick squeeze.
“No.” My voice is quiet. “We’re done here.”
He blinks. “You are, yes, but I am not. The school—”
“He said he was done,” Bella speaks up now, her voice sharp and hard. “And you should consider yourself lucky that I don’t act on behalf of my employer, and inform the world about the lackadaisical way your school approaches the security of your students.”
Lavoisier’s nostrils flare. “The security breach was contained, and the attacker—”
Bella suddenly stands up, hands balled into fists by her side, and her entire body is shaking. “Wouldn’t have ever gotten in if you followed the barest of cybersecurity protocols!”
“Mais tu te prends pour qui, putain?” Lavoisier swears. “I will not have our reputation sullied by—”
“Careful, Monsieur Lavoisier.” Bella holds her hand up to stop him. “Your school is already on the verge of one terrible scandal. I would hate for you to find yourself in a position where that scandal is about to be blown wide open for the world.”
“What is the meaning of this, Slava Danilovich?” Lavoisier looks at me. “I thought she was here to help us resolve this problem.”
“I don’t work for you,” Bella says coldly. “Nor for your school.”
“Then in that case, we will have no choice but to expel Alessandro on the grounds of unmitigable security risks. For the safety of our other students.”
“The safety of your other students?” Bella leans forward, baring her teeth. “A woman has been critically injured on your grounds by a member of the Mafia, a student’s life was put in danger.”
Lavoisier glares at her, but he doesn’t say anything back.
“What’s taken you centuries to build,” Bella snarls. “I can erase in seconds.”
Savage pride pours into my blood, and rushes straight towards my dick. For the first time since Don Leo’s yacht, I’m seeing a glimpse of the Bella that I knew and want. The uncowed, unbent, and unbreakable woman with fire in her heart and acid on her tongue.
I glance back at Lavoisier, and his lips are drawn in a single smooth line as he weighs his options. His eyes search mine, then Bella’s, and when he sees that neither of us are willing to back down, he sighs.
“Perhaps I misspoke,” he finally says. “We are all simply concerned for Alessandro’s well-being. Please, do let me know if there is any additional information that you may require. I’ll be happy to provide it.”
“Thank you, Monsieur Lavoisier,” I say. “But like I already told you, we’re done here.”
“Of course.” He stands up from his chair, glances at the folder of photos on my desk as if he wants to take them back, and then thinks better of it. “We’ll make adjustments to our security and I will inform you when it is safe for Alessandro to return to school grounds.”
Then, he leaves, and closes the door softly behind him.
And then it’s just us.
The office is quiet but the chateau is settling around us with the creaks and sighs of age. Somewhere inside its walls, Alessandro sleeps, safe and unaware of how close everything came to shattering.
“That was incredible, Ms. Farnassi,” I tell her.
She turns to look at me, and her brown eyes are still burning in the soft light of the office.
“It’s what you pay me to do,” she replies, and then she starts to take a step away.
“Stay.” I take a step towards her. “Please.”
The please costs me something. I don’t know what yet. But I can see her register it. Her lips part slightly, and she sits down on the desk.
Our hands find each other again, and we stand here in silence, letting our breaths mingle in the space between us. Something has irrevocably changed between us. That much is for sure.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
She nods once, slowly. But when she looks back up at me, there are tears in her eyes. The sight of them sends my heart fluttering in my chest, and I reach up to wipe them away.
She stops my hand, takes a trembling breath, and that’s when she asks.
“Who was Alessandro’s mother?”