Chapter 22 Blackmail Written in Legalese #4
Enzo hesitated - just a fraction. Donato was valuable. Donato was also the kind of man who showed up when asked and stayed when he shouldn’t. “If Donato walks in there, they’ll recognize our angle.”
“They’ll recognize any angle,” Valentina said, and the bite in her voice surprised even her. “But they can’t blacklist a Greco without consequences. Not publicly. Not with cameras already staged.”
The words hit Enzo differently. Consequences. Public record. It was the one kind of weapon he could use without turning Valentina into collateral.
He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. Donato goes in. You and I move to your safe room - now. And we do it fast enough that we’re still ahead of their second clip.”
Valentina looked past him, toward the corridor, as if she could see the mastermind hiding behind the walls. “And the letter?”
Enzo lifted his chin toward the compliance door. “If they’re readying it, it means it already exists somewhere in that office. Not just on paper. A copy. A recording. A file draft. We find it before it’s read.”
Valentina’s lips parted. “How do you plan to - ”
“Stop talking like you’re alone,” Enzo cut in gently, then adjusted his tone because her pride was razor-thin today. “We do this together. You don’t have to obey their legal theater. You just have to survive long enough to make it bleed.”
Her eyes caught his, dark and furious and… something else. Longing that had nowhere clean to land. Enzo felt it press at his ribs like a bruise.
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed down the hall - measured, confident. Not a guard’s hurried stride. Not a clerk’s casual pace. Someone trained to walk like they owned space.
Enzo pulled Valentina slightly behind him, close enough that her perfume - something expensive and sharp - filled his senses. He could feel the heat of her body through her coat. He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep her there until the world ran out of teeth.
Instead, he stepped forward.
The door to compliance opened inward. A man in a tailored suit stepped out, moving like he’d rehearsed the corridor. The lighting caught the lacquered shine of his shoes. His face was unremarkable in the way that made Enzo’s skin crawl. The kind of person who was forgettable by design.
He smiled like he was greeting a colleague. “Ms. Valentina. You’re not meant to be here.”
Valentina’s chin lifted. “And you are?”
“Compliance staff,” the man said, and his gaze flicked to Enzo as if Enzo were an accessory. “Media liaison. The office is preparing your statement. We were informed you might resist the recording.”
Enzo let his expression go blank. “Who informed you?”
The man’s smile didn’t change. “That’s not relevant.”
Valentina’s voice went silky with menace. “It’s relevant to me.”
The man’s eyes slid to her hand - still clenched. “Ms. Valentina, you were given a choice. Read the letter aloud. Then sign off on the public filing. That’s how you protect your… future.”
Future. The word landed like a threat disguised as comfort.
Enzo stepped closer until the man had to look up. “You’re using legalese like a muzzle,” Enzo said. “You don’t even sound like you believe it.”
The man’s gaze held steady. “Belief is irrelevant. Procedure is everything.”
Enzo’s mouth twitched. “Procedure is just another word for obedience.”
A subtle shift in the man’s shoulders betrayed something - irritation, maybe, or recognition that Enzo wasn’t going to politely back away.
Behind them, the corridor camera’s red indicator stayed steady. The building was recording. The mastermind wanted the scene to play.
Enzo leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to make the man feel private pressure. “Where’s the draft file?”
The man blinked, slow. “There is no draft file.”
Enzo didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “You can lie in legalese, too. I’m fluent.”
Valentina’s breath caught. Enzo could feel it - her attention sharpening on the man’s mouth, the cadence of his denial. She was listening for the tell, for the seam in the story.
The man’s eyes flicked to Valentina. “Ms. Valentina, if you want to keep control of the narrative, you should come with me.”
Valentina smiled - not warm. “Narrative control is the only thing you people ever talk about. Tell me something honest. Who wrote the letter?”
The man’s smile thinned. “I’m not authorized to discuss authorship.”
Enzo felt the trapdoor clause of words open under his feet. They weren’t authorized to discuss authorship. That meant the authorship was the key.
Valentina stepped forward, close enough that her perfume brushed the man’s suit. “You’re not authorized to discuss it,” she repeated, tasting the phrase. “Yet you can direct me to read it aloud.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Ms. Valentina, don’t - ”
Enzo’s burner phone vibrated in his pocket. He didn’t look down immediately. He watched the man, watched his hands. Clean. No ring. No visible threat. But his posture told Enzo he was waiting for a cue.
Enzo finally glanced at the phone.
Donato’s name lit the screen. One word came through in a text preview: “Printer.”
Enzo’s thumb moved. “Donato.”
Donato’s voice came through, tight. “The printer logs show a scheduled job. It’s scheduled to output to a local workstation in Compliance & Media Liaison. The user name attached to it is… not Donato’s. It’s Valentina’s counsel.”
Valentina froze beside him as if someone had pressed cold metal against her spine. “My counsel?”
Enzo’s gaze snapped to her face. “Your private counsel - who has your access?”