Chapter Six
Fiona
This is how spies die in movies.
The protagonist confronts the villain alone, convinced they can handle it, and things go sideways. I realize, as I climb from the taxi, that maybe this isn't the brightest idea.
There's enough proof that this person is the mole, and I would be wise to call Lorenzo and let him deal with it, but the thought of talking or seeing that lying bastard makes meeting the culprit look like a bright idea.
I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? On a working day, with an office full of people?
I just need to get to the man's computer to be sure.
I flash my security card at the entrance and stride through the gleaming, modern lobby, the polished marble floor reflecting the city's hazy sunlight that streams through the panoramic windows.
The air hums with a quiet energy, the subtle thrum of a place where fortunes have been forged.
Every floor in this building belongs to a different department managed by a Rossi brother.
I always thought it was interesting how seamlessly the legitimate business operates—on the surface, it's just another corporate headquarters.
Most of the employees probably have no idea what their bosses do after hours.
I scowl at the wall when I step into the elevator, crossing my arms over my chest to glare at the number six—Lorenzo’s floor.
An IT department that is filled with liars and scammers.
It shouldn’t be surprising that he would be surrounded by those kinds of people when the man himself is the biggest cheat.
The fury burning in my chest works to hide an emotion I refuse to allow to surface.
Hurt.
I've never been in love before. Never knew the feeling with anyone else until Raziel. In the three years we spoke, I trusted him. I loved him. Feelings I transferred to Lorenzo Rossi when I met him, and this is what I get in turn. Betrayal.
I manage to fix my expression when the elevator doors open onto the IT floor.
I didn't want to come here first, but I left my backup drive and some notes locked in my desk drawer when I rushed out yesterday.
If I'm going to convince Matteo that his assistant is a traitor, I need every scrap of evidence I can get my hands on.
I walk out, passing through sleek, minimalistic workstations, and barely anyone looks up when I pass them, with everyone hunched over glowing screens.
The walls are adorned with tasteful artwork – something I was told was the work of the youngest Rossi and the only daughter of the Rossi family, Gabriella Rossi.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee hits me as I pass by the cubes and the glass-walled conference rooms, heading toward the executive floor where Matteo's office is—I want to report what I found to anyone but Lorenzo—but then someone steps in my way.
Derrick.
“So, how was trivia night?”
“Huh?” I blink dumbly at the man before I realize what he's talking about.
“Oh, it was disappointing.” I spent my first time with a man who turned out to be a lying cheating bastard, but no matter what I do, I can't get myself to regret last night.
Maybe it wasn't special for him, but it meant everything to me.
“That is exactly why you should have joined us for drinks.”
“Yeah, maybe next time,” I offer placatingly, but when I try to step past him, he gets in my way.
“You never gave me your number, Fiona. I mean, I'll need to call you to have that drink later, right?”
“Uh, sure,” I say absently, glancing over his shoulder. “Just need to grab something from my desk if you’ll excuse me.”
“For the last time, leave the intern alone, Derrick,” comes a voice from behind us. When we turn, it's Zack again. He's standing there with his hands shrugged causally in his pockets, watching us. “What you're doing could be considered harassment.”
Derrick grumbles under his breath about Zack being a cock blocker before strutting away, leaving us alone.
“Um, thanks,” I tell the man, too scared to look him in the eye in case I give away what I know.
“What are you doing here if it’s your day off, Fiona?”
Oh, right. “Just grabbing something I left in my desk. And I wanted to speak with Matteo about something.”
His eyes sharpen almost imperceptibly. “Matteo? Not Lorenzo?”
Shit. “It's…a personal matter. I thought it would be better to go to the top.”
“I see.”
Zack tilts his head to the side as he studies me, but his face doesn't give much away. “Well, Matteo’s in a meeting right now. Could be a while. What do you need? Maybe I can help.”
“No, I—I’ll wait.”“ I take a step toward my desk. “Let me just grab my things, and—”
“I can escort you up to Matteo's office,” Zack interrupts smoothly, his hand landing on the small of my back before I can reach my desk. “You can wait for him there. It’s more comfortable than lingering down here.” I glance at him in confusion.
Matteo's rarely in his office—as the head of the company, he's constantly in meetings or handling business elsewhere.
Antonio and Luca spend most of their time in the field, but Matteo runs things from wherever he needs to be.
I hesitate, glancing back at my desk. The notes are right there, just twenty feet away. But Zack is already steering me toward the elevator, and making a scene would only raise his suspicions further.
“That's very kind of you,” I say, letting him guide me. I'll have to do this without the notes. I have enough evidence on my phone from what I emailed myself earlier. It will have to be enough.
“No trouble at all,” Zack says, pressing the elevator button. His smile doesn't reach his eyes. “It's the least I can do.”
The ride to the top floor is spent in silence, but even with alarm bells ringing in my head, I can't think of an excuse to get away from this man. I tell myself I’m being paranoid. He doesn’t know that I know. There’s no way he could.
Matteo's office is huge with expensive leather chairs and a polished mahogany table, but it's the large windows that offer a panoramic view of the city that steals my breath away.
“You can wait in here, but meanwhile, let's chat,” Zack says, forcing my gaze back to him. “Just me and you, Fiona O'Shea.”
I gasp at the mention of my name. Here, I’m Fiona Austen—the alias I've been using.
If he knows my real name, then he knows I'm a fraud, but still, I decide to play along.
My heart races as I speak, “How did you know my real name?
I've been trying to keep it hidden so people don't think I used connections to get an internship here.”
He laughs, the sound low and menacing. “Is that how you want to play it?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Rossis planted you here to spy on me, didn't they?”
I back up a step when he starts for me, gasping when my hip connects with a chair. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”
“Why would the daughter of one of the most powerful security firms in New York City intern at an office like ours unless they are a plant?” Christ, he's so scary.
I was right to be worried about being here, and yet, I was fool enough to believe he wouldn't be stupid enough to confront me either.
“Did the Rossis hire you to spy for them?”
“S-spy?” I ask, trying to look confused. “Why would they ask me to spy for them?”
“Maybe this will help clear any confusion.” I watch with horror as Zack reaches behind him and pulls out a handgun fitted with a suppressor, but doesn't immediately point it at me.
Its presence alone is a threat, and something in the way he's watching me tells me he's not afraid to use it. “You figured it out, didn't you?”
“I…I don’t—”
“Enough with the innocent act!” he roars, and I realize with a sinking feeling that these walls must be soundproof. “Tell me the truth, and I will make your death as painless as possible.”
“Y-you can’t kill me. This is Matteo’s office!” I say, fighting the need to panic. Not yet. Christ, not yet!
“Matteo's out of town for the next three days.
Some business in Chicago. I can kill you and erase all footage.
By the time they figure out that I was in here with you, I'll be on my way to a different country.
The money I've made off these clueless fuckers is enough to sustain a life somewhere else.” He taps his gun against the side of his head with a wicked smile.
“By the time anyone finds you, I'll be long gone.”
“You won’t get away with it,” I hiss, glaring at him. “Lorenzo also knows that you are the mole and is on his way here!”
He laughs, the sound loud and insidious.
“Please, you think Lorenzo has the skills to figure out anything?” he laughs once more, wiping an invisible tear at the corner of his eye.
“He is just a man in charge because of his last name. You want to know something funny? Derrick tells me all about how Lorenzo dumps the real work on his team and takes credit for everything. The golden retriever of the Rossi family,” he sneers.
“Meanwhile, I'm the one who actually keeps this organization running. Matteo trusts me with everything—his schedule, his files, his accounts. And he never once questioned why things kept going missing.”
Finally, it makes sense. As Matteo's assistant, Zack had access to everything—shipment schedules, financial accounts, sensitive information. He was invisible because he was trusted.
His inferiority complex messed him up, and getting away with what he did made him believe that he was better than Lorenzo.
I almost feel sorry for the guy, but then he raises his gun at me, eyes seething with hate.
I realize that pleading for my life will make no difference to the man, but I will not go out silently.
“Even if the Rossis don't do anything to you, my family will hunt you down to the corners of the earth,” I tell Zack.
“My older brother, Roarke, was in the special forces, and he'll crush you like the pathetic little pest that you are. You will be nothing but scum under his boots by the time Conor gets to you.” I take pleasure in the quick flash of fear in his eyes.
“You're better off dealing with the Rossis than my family. You will curse the day you met me when they find you.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll make sure they never find me.”
I clench my jaw and keep my eyes on the gun barrel, the cold steel, refusing to cower in my last moments despite the harsh beating of my heart. There is a slight tremor in his hands, but he tightens his grip on the gun.
Okay, this is it.
I brace myself for pain, but suddenly, the door explodes inward with a deafening crash, splintering wood and sending shards flying. And then a shot rings out, and someone screams.