Chapter 17 #2
He leans closer. “You think you are different from her because you carry a badge now? You think that makes you stronger? It does not make you safe.”
“No.”
The answer surprises him.
“I think I am different because I came back.”
The signal comes.
The lights cut out.
For one breath, the club disappears.
Then emergency lights flare red along the walls, and the room breaks open.
“FBI! Nobody move!”
Glass shatters somewhere near the bar. Chairs scrape. Raven’s team moves through the darkness in black combat gear, guns aimed, commands overlapping through the panic. Leon’s men reach for their guns.
Stefano pushes me down before the first shot fires.
The booth jolts as a bullet hits the table edge above us. Wood splinters across my hair. I hit the floor hard, one hand braced against the carpet, the other reaching for the weapon at my back.
Stefano is already moving.
He is not where he was one second ago.
Then he is across the room, striking the man nearest Leon before the guard can clear his jacket. The gun flashes once. Stefano turns, drives his shoulder into him, and sends both of them into the smoked-glass partition.
It explodes. Leon runs, shoving through the side exit, the remaining guard close behind him.
I see him vanish into the service corridor beyond the club, and every part of me knows this is the moment.
The one I have spent months chasing through false names and dirty rooms and every ugly piece of Alice’s death.
I run after him.
“Maya!” Raven’s voice cuts through the chaos.
I do not stop.
The corridor is narrow, lit by weak service bulbs and lined with stacked crates. Leon is ahead of me, struggling with the back door. His guard turns first, gun lifting toward my chest.
I fire once.
The shot catches him high in the shoulder. He drops with a shout, weapon skidding across the concrete.
Leon gets the door open.
Cold rain blows in from the alley.
He steps through it—and Stefano is waiting.
For one second, nobody moves.
Rain runs down Stefano’s face and darkens his shirt. His gun is already raised.
Leon freezes.
“Move,” Leon says.
Stefano does not.
“I said move.”
“You have been saying things all night,” Stefano replies. “None of them have been useful.”
Leon’s eyes dart past him toward the alley. No exit. No car. No men waiting.
Just Stefano.
Then Raven and two agents burst into the corridor behind me.
“Drop the weapon!” Raven shouts.
Leon turns halfway toward them.
His hand goes inside his jacket.
“Don’t,” I say.
He looks at me.
For one terrible moment, I think he is going to listen.
Then he pulls the gun.
Raven fires.
So does Stefano.
Leon jerks backward, one hand holding his chest. He stumbles into the alley wall, rain mixing with blood as he slides down the brick.
He is alive.
Barely.
Raven moves first, shouting orders. Agents flood around him, kicking the weapon away, reaching for cuffs, calling for medical.
This is it.
This is the moment.
Leon is going to live.
He is going to be taken in. He is going to hear every charge. He is going to see his name in court records and headlines. Erin and Heath will know that their father didn't get to vanish behind money and silence.
I take one step toward him.
Stefano steps beside me.
Leon looks up at us, blood at the corner of his mouth.
“You think this changes anything?” he whispers.
I stare down at him.
“It changes everything.”
He laughs.
Then his eyes move to Stefano.
“Still playing hero?” Leon says. “She will learn what you are.”
Stefano’s face doesn’t change.
Raven turns. “Savarese, step back.”
He does not.
“Stefano,” I say.
His gaze lowers to Leon.
The gun rises.
For one second, I do not understand.
Then I do.
“No.”
Stefano looks at me.
I see the answer in his face before he moves.
“No!” I scream.
The shot is louder than it should be.
Leon’s body goes still.
The rain keeps falling.
For a moment, I cannot breathe.
Raven curses. Agents freeze. Somewhere at my back, someone calls for a medic anyway, though there is nothing left for a medic to do.
I turn toward Stefano.
“You promised me.”
His expression doesn’t change.
“I promised you he would not touch them again.”
“You promised me I would get him.”
“You did.”
I cross the distance between us before I think better of it and hit him. My hand cracks across his face. I hit him again. This time, his head turns with it.
“You took it from me,” I say, my voice breaking around every word. “You took the choice from me.”
His eyes come back to mine.
Rain slides down his cheek. Blood darkens the collar of his shirt, not all of it his.
“I know.”
That is all he says.
Not sorry.
Not a justification.
Just the truth.
My hands quiver at my sides. I want to hit him again. I want to make him understand what he has done. I want him to tell me this is another game, another cruel performance, and that Leon will open his eyes in a hospital room surrounded by agents.
Instead, Stefano reaches for my face.
I should pull away, but I don’t move fast enough.
His mouth crashes against mine with both desperation and grief and the same unbearable certainty that has defined everything between us.
For one second, I hate how much my body recognizes him.
I hate that my hands close in his shirt before I can stop them.
Then he pulls back.
His forehead rests against mine.
“Go with Raven,” he says.
My chest rises too fast. “What?”
“Go.”
“You are leaving.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Maya.”
“You do not get to do this.”
“I already did.”
The cruelty of it empties me.
Raven is behind us now. I can sense her presence. Hear the agents moving around Leon’s body. Hear someone calling my name.
Stefano takes one step back. I reach for him. He catches my wrist, presses his mouth once against my knuckles, then lets go, stepping away from me.
The service door behind him swings open.
Omar stands there, soaked through, his face somber.
“Stefano,” he says.
Stefano does not look away from me until the last possible second.
Then he turns.
He walks through the door with Omar at his side.
The lock slides into place behind them.
I stand in the rain with Leon dead at my feet and Stefano gone before I can decide which loss hurts worse.