Chapter 13 – Ivan
IVAN
“Iwant her in the interrogation room ASAP,” Grey barked.
I leaned against the wall of the communications center, watching him pace like a caged predator.
The monitors surrounding us displayed various security feeds from around the compound, including one showing the twins on their way over.
Grey’s attention kept returning to that particular screen, his obsession becoming more obvious by the hour.
And now, I finally knew why.
“You’re certain about this intel?” I kept my voice neutral despite my growing unease.
Grey’s pale eyes flickered to me. “Absolutely. There’s strong evidence Isabella Salvini is Iset.” He gestured to the screen showing the twins. The quiet one. The shy one. All this time hiding behind her family name while wreaking havoc around the world.
Grey tapped his finger against the quieter twin’s image.
I studied the feed. The twins were being led toward the communications center, one following the orders, the other fidgeting restlessly, looking around and taking everything in. “Her?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my voice. “The shy one?”
Grey shrugged. “Perfect cover, isn’t it?” His lips curved into what might have been admiration. “Who would suspect the reclusive Salvini daughter of being one of the most elusive hackers in the world? She and her little group have breached systems that were supposed to be impenetrable.”
I crossed my arms, watching Shorty look directly into the camera on screen. If anyone had asked me to pick which twin was more likely to be a notorious hacker, I’d have put my money on her without hesitation.
The fierce one. The fighter. The one who’d nearly burned down a hospital to escape.
“What exactly did Iset do to earn this level of…attention?” I chose my words carefully.
Of course, I’d heard of the notorious hacker, but I’d never looked into her on a deeper level.
Until now. Because whatever had Grey so obsessed with her, I would bet money it wasn’t just because the Paraskia wanted her.
Grey’s expression hardened. “She exposed operations that were meant to stay buried. Redirected funds. Destroyed years of careful work.” He turned to face me fully. “But more importantly, she has information that could compromise everything I’ve built.”
“I” not “we.” Was he talking about the Paraskia Syndicate or himself? Was this why it seemed so personal for him? Was this about something specific Iset had found, something Grey desperately wanted to contain?
“And you’re certain it’s Isabella, not Mirabella?” I pressed, thinking of Shorty’s calculating eyes, her quick thinking, her refusal to be controlled. And what she’d shown me was probably barely scratching the surface.
“Our analysis is conclusive. And even the name fits Iset—Isabella.” Grey pulled up a file on the nearest monitor—a full dossier. Information I hadn’t been provided access to—until now.
I glanced at Nina until she looked at me, then side-glanced at the monitor and finally locked eyes with her.
She nodded, then turned to the workstation nearest to her. Thank God she understood my need for a copy of the file, even without me using words.
I focused back on Grey and nodded, keeping my thoughts carefully guarded.
I had to go over the file before I would form any opinion, but even if everything looked solid on paper, it didn’t align with what I’d observed firsthand.
The quieter twin showed none of the tactical awareness, the calculating defiance, the sheer stubborn resourcefulness I’d seen in Shorty.
If one of them was living a double life as a master hacker, I’d still put my money on the fighter. Despite all the evidence.
“The video call with their brother is scheduled ten minutes from now,” I said. “It’s better to get this over with before we interrogate them.”
Grey’s nostrils flared. He was clearly unhappy not to get his wish immediately. But as far as I was concerned, he was unfit to interrogate Isabella anyway, not when he was this much invested.
“I want you to handle them personally,” he said.
Bingo. Maybe he wasn’t as far gone as I’d thought.
“Any specific instructions?” I asked, already calculating how I could cram all the information from her file between the video call and the interrogation.
“Keep it brief. Don’t let them say anything revealing about their location.” Grey’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, fuck it. Vince Salvini will be here in a matter of hours anyway.”
Wait. He was talking about the video call, not the interrogation.
“But watch Isabella carefully. Every reaction, every word. She’s clever—she might try to pass coded information.”
I nodded, but the irony wasn’t lost on me. Grey was so fixated on the quiet twin that he was overlooking the real threat—if my suspicions were correct.
“And after the call?” I asked.
“I’ll be interrogating them both at my villa.” Grey’s voice dropped, sending an involuntary chill down my spine. “Something I’ve been looking forward to for quite some time.”
My blood froze. His villa? Not one of the official interrogation rooms? “Is that smart?” I kept my voice even through sheer force of will.
“Iset has information we need.” Grey’s tone left no room for argument.
I turned away, ostensibly, to check the communications setup but actually to hide the rage that threatened to break through my carefully maintained facade.
This was not following procedure.
I’d seen Grey in action. He was the worst kind of predator—one who enjoyed breaking his victims slowly, meticulously.
The thought of him anywhere near the twins—near Shorty—made something primal and protective rise within me. But without the proper setup and the ethical framework—flimsy as it was—that the Paraskia established?
There was no way to tell how this would go. Especially not with someone as reckless as Shorty.
“The call is a courtesy,” Grey continued, oblivious to my internal struggle. “A chance for Salvini to see his sisters are unharmed before we proceed to more…productive measures.”
I nodded again, mind racing. Whatever Grey thought he knew about Isabella Salvini and Iset, bringing her and her sister into his villa for interrogation—unsupervised…
…Was not something that would happen. I needed to reassess, to gather more information, to prepare contingencies I hadn’t previously considered necessary—and I had zero time to do so.
Shit. And just like that, I was in the middle of it.
If I wanted to be or not.
I looked at a screen. The twins were already at the building. I watched the door open, and the two guards entered with the twins.
I made a beeline for the elevator and rode it up to meet them.
“Where are you taking us?” one of the twins asked just as the elevator doors opened, and I found myself toe to toe with Shorty.
My eyes immediately found hers—fierce, alert, calculating.
This was not the naked woman from last night, who fit perfectly into my arms, who was defiant and alluring, sexy and feisty all rolled into one delectable little package. Who I almost kissed.
Who was ready and willing to be kissed by me.
Fuck. I shoved down the memories and emotions that had kept me awake all night and put on my professional mask, something I’d mastered ages ago.
“This is our communications center,” I replied to answer the question I’d overheard.
“Your brother has demanded proof that you’re both alive and unharmed,” I explained, keeping my tone businesslike. I waited for her reaction, happy when I saw her mask slip, even if it was just a tiny blip.
“Your brother is very…what’s the word with a P,” I said with a half smirk.
“Persistent?” Shorty asked.
“A pain in the ass,” I replied, “but persistent works too.”
The doors opened to reveal the sleek, high-tech underground facility that was every nerd’s wettest dream.
Isabella moved with hesitation, eyes downcast, not really interested or excited.
While Shorty took in every detail of the communications center in seconds, her gaze lingered on the security monitors, the equipment, and the guards’ positions—not the behavior of someone unfamiliar with tactical assessment.
When we passed the glass front of our server room, she slowed down and almost started salivating.
But when we passed the glass wall of our quantum computing research lab, she froze completely and stared at the large cylindrical object, gaping like a fish out of water.
Somebody with no computer knowledge—like her sister—wouldn’t even know what they were looking at. But clearly, Shorty did.
“Impressive,” she murmured before she caught herself.
“You know computers?” I asked, secretly delighted by her reaction. Easiest way to catch a nerd—show them a quantum computer fridge.
She shrugged—was probably mentally kicking herself. “Everyone knows computers these days.”
Everyone knew computers, but not everyone would know the housing of a quantum computer.
So maybe Isabella Salvini wasn’t Iset after all.
“Ladies,” Grey said smoothly, his predatory focus fully on the twins. “Your brother has been quite insistent about speaking with you. We’ve arranged a brief call to assure him of your well-being.”
I stepped forward, positioning myself between Grey and the twins. “I’ll handle the call,” I said and gestured toward the corridor. “This way.”
As Shorty passed me, our eyes locked for a heartbeat.
The challenge in her gaze, the subtle tilt of her chin—a fighter to her core.
If one of these women was secretly a digital phantom capable of bringing organizations to their knees, I’d bet everything I had it wasn’t the quiet, bookish twin Grey was so fixated on.
It was the fierce little wildcat who’d already proven she’d burn the world down to create an opportunity to escape.
I directed the twins to one of the secure communications rooms. The space was compact but efficiently arranged—a single monitor and camera set up on a metal desk, surrounded by electromagnetically shielded walls that prevented any unauthorized signals from penetrating in or out.