Chapter 13 The Poisoned Handshake #5
“Someone rehearsed the poison delivery,” he said. “They adjusted timing because they needed a specific moment. That moment is tied to the handoff of documents.”
Valentina’s gaze dropped to her routing authorization folder - now secured in a sealed evidence sleeve on the counter. Even behind plastic, it looked like a threat. Like something that could bite through gloves.
“You think they’ll try to reach me through it,” she said.
Enzo didn’t like the way her voice flattened around the edges. It was the tone she used when she refused to be scared.
“They already did,” he said. “Not successfully. But they’ll try again.”
Valentina lifted her chin. “Then we stop it.”
Enzo’s instinct was to say yes. To move. To grab her and get her out of this room. To keep her alive with brute force.
But there was another instinct he’d learned the hard way: stop the poison by understanding it. Stop the ritual by breaking the conditions it required.
He looked at the test reading again. “We figure out the delivery method exactly.”
Valentina’s eyes flashed. “And then?”
Enzo stared at her. “And then we make sure they can’t deliver it where they planned.”
Her lips parted. “You’re saying we should bait them.”
Enzo’s pulse kicked. Baiting enemies was a tactic. It was also a confession of how much he feared losing her.
He didn’t want to say it aloud, because he didn’t want her to see the possessive hunger in it. He didn’t want her to use it against him. She already had too many reasons to hate the way he guarded her.
Instead he said, “I’m saying we don’t just react. We rewrite the ritual.”
Valentina’s eyes narrowed. “You’re comfortable rewriting rituals.”
Enzo’s smile was thin and humorless. “I’m uncomfortable with the fact that I’m thinking about it at all.”
The words came out harsher than he intended. Valentina’s expression shifted - something wounded, something provoked.
She took a step back, as if she’d been pushed.
Enzo immediately regretted it. Not because he wanted her to forgive him. Because he wanted her to stay close enough to keep her alive.
He took a breath and softened his tone. “I’m not angry at you.”
Valentina’s gaze held. “Then what are you angry at?”
Enzo stared at the sealed evidence sleeve. The routing authorization was her breath and her blood and her fear, all wrapped in paper and resin. It was the thing the mastermind had tried to use as a lever.
“I’m angry at the fact that you keep acting like you can handle it alone,” he said.
Valentina’s eyes flared. “You keep acting like you’re the only one who can protect me.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened. “I don’t act. I plan.”
Her laugh was quiet and sharp. “You plan around me.”
Enzo’s chest tightened. That was the truth he hadn’t wanted to admit. He planned around her because he couldn’t plan around the way she destabilized him.
He stepped closer again. “I plan around the way someone else is watching you.”
Valentina didn’t flinch this time. She held her ground, and that steadiness made his hunger burn hotter.
“You’re not answering,” she said.
Enzo lowered his voice. “I’m angry because the mastermind is rehearsing a handshake technique like it’s a dance. And every time you get pulled into it, you think you’re choosing to step forward.”
Valentina’s lips parted. “I am choosing.”
Enzo’s gaze locked on hers. “No. You’re choosing to survive. There’s a difference.”
Her throat moved again as she swallowed. “Then tell me what you need.”
Enzo’s mind went blank for half a second. That sentence - what you need - was a doorway. It was intimate in a way his duty never was.
He forced his thoughts back into shape.
“I need you to stay in this room,” he said. “I need to verify the delivery method and compare it to the residue patterns from earlier incidents. If they’re rehearsing, they left a trail.”
Valentina’s stare sharpened. “A trail for you.”
“A trail for both of us,” Enzo corrected quickly.
She didn’t soften. She just looked at him like she was deciding whether to trust him with her life. And that was the hardest kind of intimacy - not kisses, not touches, but the moment someone lets you inside the part of them that could break.
“I hate being locked behind doors,” she said.
Enzo’s voice came out rough. “Then don’t let them lock you. Let me keep them from reaching you.”
Valentina’s gaze dropped to his mouth again, and this time she didn’t look away fast enough.
Enzo felt it like a spark across skin.
He wanted to close the distance. He wanted to press his lips to hers until her fear turned into something he could hold. He wanted to remind her that being wanted wasn’t the same as being owned.
But the room was too small for desire to survive. Not with poison in the air. Not with the mastermind likely listening through the walls.
So Enzo did what he’d always done when his instincts begged to be dangerous.
He gave her a task.
“Help me with the swabs,” he said, and gestured to the open case. “I need your eyes. You’ll notice what I’ll miss.”
Valentina looked at the swabs like they were a weapon. “Fine.”
Enzo watched her hands as she pulled on fresh gloves. The latex snapped softly around her fingers. She was careful, precise - like she was handling glass.
When