Chapter 22 Blackmail Written in Legalese #5
Valentina’s throat worked. “I - ”
The man in the suit cut in, voice smooth, like he’d been waiting for her hesitation. “Ms. Valentina, you have nothing to worry about. The letter was prepared based on her understanding of the law.”
Valentina’s eyes went glassy. “My counsel didn’t prepare - ”
“Don’t,” Enzo murmured, not to stop her, but to anchor her. “Don’t guess. Tell me the name.”
Valentina’s lips parted, then closed. Her voice came out hoarse. “Elena.”
Enzo felt the corridor tilt. Elena had been a constant presence in their orbit - friend, messenger, the kind of person who made things feel less poisonous. But Elena was also someone with private counsel access. Someone close enough to draft in legalese that sounded like inevitability.
The man in the suit watched them with careful neutrality. He didn’t look surprised. That was the worst part. He looked like he’d already been told what Valentina would say.
Enzo snapped, “Where’s Elena right now?”
The man lifted a shoulder, barely. “She’s working.”
Valentina’s voice broke slightly. “Elena wouldn’t.”
Enzo’s hand slid to Valentina’s wrist - not gripping, just anchoring her in reality. “Not unless she’s compromised. Not unless someone forced her to draft it with access.”
The man’s gaze flicked to Enzo’s hand. “Touching is unnecessary. Ms. Valentina, compliance requires - ”
Enzo cut him off with a low, dangerous calm. “Compliance requires you to answer a question.”
The man’s eyes sharpened. “Your question is not on the schedule.”
Enzo’s burner phone buzzed again. Donato’s text this time, shorter: “Valentina name scheduled on TV segment. Time: 9:12. Panel: Media Liaison. Location: Atrium stage.”
Valentina inhaled like she’d been slapped. “Atrium stage?”
Enzo watched the man’s expression - still controlled, but now a faint tightening at the corners. He wasn’t surprised by Donato’s information. He was annoyed. Like his plan had moved into a part he didn’t want disturbed.
Valentina’s voice turned brittle. “They’re going to put me on camera. They’re going to read the letter like I agreed.”
Enzo’s mind ran through the machinery of it.
If the letter was read aloud on tape, it could be used to legitimize the public filing.
If Valentina’s words appeared as voluntary, the mastermind could argue authenticity.
And if the trapdoor clause was tied to a public filing - then the moment her scandal went live, the clause would be primed.
Enzo looked at the man. “You’re not just compliance,” he said. “You’re media staging. Who’s paying you?”
The man didn’t answer.
Valentina’s shoulders rose and fell. She looked furious and terrified at once. Enzo could see the old instinct in her - the one that made her take control by force, by willpower, by making decisions she could live with later.
But willpower wasn’t enough against a countdown.
She lifted her chin toward the open door. “Bring me back to the safe room.”
The man’s smile returned - thin and satisfied. “Of course, Ms. Valentina. We’ll take you there.”
Enzo’s chest tightened. That was the wrong word. Safe room. They called it safe because it was supposed to lull her into compliance. A safe room could become a trap.
He stepped in front of her again. “No. You’ll take us to where the letter is stored.”
The man’s gaze held. “Ms. Valentina - ”
Valentina cut him off. “Enzo’s not asking. He’s telling you. We’re leaving this corridor with the letter before it goes on air.”
The man’s jaw flexed. His composure cracked by a hair. “If you refuse the recording, you risk - ”
Enzo’s voice turned flat. “Risk what? Your legal theater? Your staged scandal?”
The man’s nostrils flared. “Your words will be used.”
Valentina’s eyes went bright. “Then I’ll choose them.”
Enzo felt the heat of her determination and the fear behind it. She was trying to reclaim herself by stepping into the line of fire. That was romantic in the darkest way - her refusal to be owned. But it could also be suicide if the letter was already scheduled to trigger the trapdoor clause.
He leaned close again, low enough that only she could hear. “We can’t let them control timing. We’ll find the draft file and the recording source. Then we decide whether to read anything.”
Her gaze locked on his. “And what if they’re already reading it?”
Enzo didn’t lie. “Then we stop it from being broadcast. We change the outlet.”
Her breath shook. “You can’t change a live segment.”
“I can change who gets blamed,” Enzo said. “And I can change who gets heard.”
The man in the suit shifted his weight. “You’re making this difficult.”
Enzo’s smile was all teeth. “You’re making it public.”
A door clicked somewhere behind them - another office door opening. Another voice murmured. The building was waking up to perform.
Enzo turned his head sharply. “Elena’s not here,” he said, not a question. “So where is she? Holding the file? Waiting to be forced to read it too?”
Valentina’s eyes flicked, searching. “Elena would never - ”
“Never,” Enzo echoed, and his tone went hard. “Never is a luxury. People break