CHAPTER 22
RAFE
Leo’s office contains no weapons I can see.
That does not mean there are none. It means my brother prefers threats that can be filed, notarized, and delivered before lunch.
He works from the thirty-sixth floor of a glass tower overlooking the river.
The reception area is pale stone and quiet carpeting, designed to reassure corporate clients that their problems will remain expensive and private.
A row of legal awards stands beside photographs of Leo shaking hands with judges, business owners, and one former governor who later claimed never to have met our family.
Nora stayed with Mina at the protected apartment.
I told her where I was going, who would be present, and how long I expected to remain.
The process felt unnecessary.
It also prevented the argument I anticipated, which suggests it may have practical value.
Leo closes his office door behind me.
“You look terrible.”
“I was injured.”
“I know. I saw you threaten Tommaso with one functioning arm.”
“He was not threatened.”
“You pulled a gun beneath the table.”
“He did not see it until after his adviser moved.”
Leo walks to a cabinet and pours coffee.
He has changed since law school, though not in the ways Marcello feared. The idealism remains, hidden beneath better tailoring and a fatigue that reaches his eyes when he believes no one is watching.
He offers me a cup.
I decline.
He drinks both.
“I assume Nora sent you,” he says.
“We decided I would come.”
Leo pauses with the second cup near his mouth.
“We.”
“Yes.”
“This relationship is developing faster than anticipated.”
“It is not a relationship.”
“You attended a family confrontation together, obeyed her in front of Tommaso, and entered through the kitchen because she chose the route.”
“I chose the kitchen.”
“Nora chose not to enter behind you.”
I look at him.
Leo raises one hand. “I am not criticizing. I am adjusting my risk models.”
“Do not model her.”
“You have enough data for both of us?”
The comment is careless.
He realizes it immediately.
I set my uninjured hand on his desk.
“Do not.”
The warning is quiet.
Leo’s expression loses all humor. “I’m sorry.”
I wait.
He does not defend the joke or suggest we have both made mistakes.
The apology belongs only to him.
I remove my hand from the desk.
“Pryce is destroying the servers tomorrow night.”
“Mina told me.”
“We need the physical contracts and original assignment records.”
“Police may seize them before then.”
“Pryce will remove anything useful first.”
“I can seek an injunction.”
“By the time a judge signs it, the records will be ash.”
Leo sits behind his desk. “You want me to help you break into a forensic accounting firm.”
“I want you to create a lawful reason for Mina’s access and delay the destruction process.”
“And while I do that?”
“We enter.”
“We.”
“Nora, Mina, and me.”
His expression hardens. “No.”
The word sounds like mine.
I notice.
“You do not decide for Mina,” I say.
Leo leans back. “You have become intolerable in a new direction.”
“Answer the question.”
“You did not ask one.”
“Will you provide legal cover?”
He looks toward the river.
“Edward Pryce filed a preservation notice this morning.”
“To preserve evidence against Nora.”
“Yes. That means destroying servers could become obstruction, but he claims the shutdown is necessary to protect client confidentiality after her breach.”
“Can you stop it?”
“I can create delay. Perhaps several hours.”
“Enough.”
“It is not enough if all three of you are arrested.”
“Nora believes the physical contracts prove Pryce selected her before the audit and coordinated with Tommaso.”
“She is likely correct.”
“You have seen the logs.”
“I have.”
“Then help.”
Leo turns his coffee cup between his hands.
“Marcello called me after the meeting.”
“What did he want?”
“My records. Every relocation account. Names, current addresses, money remaining.”
“You refused.”
“Yes.”
“Tommaso?”
“Sent me a message suggesting the relocated employees may be considered disloyal.”
The threat enters cleanly.
Not against Leo.
Against the people he moved.
“How many?”
“Seventeen employees. Thirty-one relatives.”
“Where are the complete records?”
“Separated across three legal services. Tommaso cannot reach them quickly.”
“Can Marcello?”
“Not without exposing the family’s interest.”
I study my brother.
He built the exits knowing discovery would place him against Marcello. He continued anyway. Not because he believed he could win, but because someone had to create a door.
I nearly broke his arm before learning why.
“I was wrong about you,” I say.
Leo stops moving the cup.
The sentence is more difficult than any threat I made this week.
“I believed the Orpheus access meant you were involved in Nora’s order. I prepared to treat you as a threat.”
“You usually prepare for that.”
“I considered hurting you.”
His eyes meet mine. “Did Nora make you say this?”
“No.”
“Did she suggest it?”
“No.”
“Then I’m concerned about your concussion.”
“I should have asked before deciding.”
The words sound like hers.
They are mine now.
Leo looks down at the coffee.
“When we were children,” he says, “you used to take punishment for me.”
“That was practical.”
“You were eleven.”
“You cried.”
“I was six.”
“You cried frequently.”
His mouth moves, but the memory does not become humor.
“At some point,” Leo continues, “you stopped asking whether I needed help. You simply removed whatever you believed was dangerous.”
“That usually worked.”
“It also taught me to hide everything important from you.”
I think of Nora’s archive waiting inside the townhouse system.
Records collected because watching felt safer than asking.
“I know,” I say.
Leo studies my face.
“Do you?”
“More than before.”
The office remains quiet.
He opens a drawer and removes a thick folder.
“Independent relocation records,” he says. “Addresses redacted. Funding and authorization complete. If Marcello moves against those families, this proves why they left.”
I do not touch the folder.
“Why give it to me?”
“Because you chose Nora over the family in front of him.”
“That does not make me safe.”
“No.” Leo looks toward the door. “But it may make you capable of choosing again.”
I take the records.
The weight is ordinary.
The trust is not.
“What do you need from me?” I ask.
“Protection for the relocated families if Tommaso moves early.”
“Done.”
“You cannot protect thirty-one people alone.”
“Nico has teams outside the Bellandi structure.”
“Funded by?”
“Me.”
Leo exhales. “Of course you have an independent private security network.”
“You have three legal archives.”
“That is professional.”
“So is mine.”
His phone rings.
Mina.
Leo puts her on speaker.
“We’re all here,” he says.
Nora’s voice comes through first. “Rafe?”
“Yes.”
“You told me twenty minutes.”
“It has been eighteen.”
A pause.
“Fine.”
Mina says, “I accessed the server destruction queue. Pryce moved it forward.”
“When?” Leo asks.
“Tonight. Eleven thirty.”
We have less than twelve hours.
“Why?” I ask.
“Someone sent him a one-line instruction through Lake Meridian: ‘Terminal window accelerated. Clean all witnesses.’”
Clean all witnesses.
Nora goes silent.
“Pryce is not only deleting servers,” Mina continues. “He has movers scheduled for nine. The archive inventory lists twenty-eight boxes.”
“Where are they going?” I ask.
“Off-site shredding company.”
“Legitimate?”
“The company exists. Its truck was leased yesterday.”
“Tommaso’s people,” Nora says.
“Yes.”
Leo stands and reaches for his jacket.
“I can issue a formal preservation demand within an hour.”
“Will Pryce obey?” Mina asks.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because when he disobeys, we can prove knowledge.”
Nora says, “We still need the documents.”
“I know.”
Leo looks at me.
There is no argument left.
“We meet at the law-firm apartment at seven,” I say. “Review routes, building access, and exit options.”
Nora answers immediately. “Agreed.”
“Mina?”
“I’m already preparing.”
Leo closes his eyes.
“What?” I ask.
Mina’s voice becomes cautious.
“I may have found a way into the building without using Nora’s revoked credentials.”
“You will wait until seven,” Leo says.
Silence.
“Mina.”
“I am listening.”
“That is not agreement.”
Another silence.
Nora understands first. “Where are you?”
“I needed to verify the badge still worked.”
My body becomes alert.
“Where?” I ask.
Mina releases a breath.
“The Pryce and Cole lobby.”