Chapter 18 Elena’s Source Vanishes Again #4
“You’re being served a warrant for arrest and immediate transfer,” he said. “For your cooperation with the investigation into Tomas Rinaldi’s custody.”
Immediate transfer.
Elena’s mind snapped through possibilities in a brutal, mechanical rhythm. If they took her to a holding area, they’d strip her access. They’d seize her devices. They’d call it procedure. They’d call it justice. They’d call it containment.
And in that containment, Tomas could disappear completely - his statements turned into confession, her name twisted into guilt.
Elena’s gaze darted to the guard who’d been talking. He looked sick, like he’d swallowed something too large.
“What did you tell them?” Elena asked.
The guard swallowed. “I didn’t - I just - ”
The officer raised a hand. “Enough.”
Matteo shifted his stance, blocking Elena from the corridor’s line of sight without touching her.
It was a quiet move, but the way his shoulders angled told her he’d already mapped exits.
He was still the same disciplined strategist, but Elena could feel something different now - an edge of impatience, like he’d already learned this was a trap and was furious it had sprung.
“Elena Russo,” the officer said again, louder. “Stand aside.”
Elena couldn’t. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not with Tomas sitting somewhere, categorized under her name, waiting for the next move.
“No,” she said.
Matteo’s head turned a fraction toward her. His eyes didn’t soften, but his attention sharpened.
Elena pressed forward, voice steadier than she felt. “If Tomas is in custody, then he’s alive. If he’s alive, he can still correct the record. You can’t arrest me without letting him speak.”
The officer’s brows lifted, almost amused. “You think this is about letting Tomas speak?”
Elena understood then. This wasn’t a legal process. It was a script.
A trap dressed in procedure.
Matteo’s phone buzzed in his jacket pocket - one sharp vibration that cut through the hallway’s hum. Elena saw his fingers twitch as if he wanted to ignore it, but he didn’t. He pulled the phone out just enough to check, eyes scanning the screen in silence.
The officer didn’t notice - at least not immediately - but Elena did. She watched Matteo’s face tighten, watched the subtle shift in his posture as if the directive on the phone had a weight he could feel through his bones.
Matteo’s thumb hovered over the screen.
Elena leaned closer. “What did it say?”
He didn’t answer her. Not at first. His gaze lifted to the officer again, and something in his expression told Elena the directive wasn’t meant for her. It was meant to control him while Elena was being processed.
Matteo’s silence made Elena’s fear flare into anger.
“Tell me,” Elena demanded.
He finally looked at her. “They’re moving you.”
“Already they are,” Elena snapped. “Tomas is under my identity. That means they can - ”
“They can sanitize the record,” Matteo finished, voice low. “And they can do it fast.”
Elena’s mouth went dry. The words landed like cold water. Matteo had already recognized the pattern - how information got wiped, how narratives got cleaned, how evidence vanished without anyone ever admitting it was gone.
The officer stepped closer. The handheld scanner beeped again, and this time the sound seemed louder, like the building itself was announcing her doom.
“Hands where I can see them,” the officer said.
Elena didn’t move. Her fingers itched for her own phone, for the drive fragment, for anything she could use to fight back. But she’d already learned what happened when she reached for the wrong thing in the wrong moment.
Matteo’s sidearm sat hidden inside his jacket. Elena could feel the shape of it in his presence - an invisible promise he might have to make into a reality.
Elena forced herself to breathe. Once. Twice. The air was too cold to be comfortable, too filtered to be honest.
“What’s the unit?” Elena asked the officer, voice controlled. “Where are you taking me?”
The officer’s lips pressed together. “You’ll see when you arrive.”
Elena laughed once, sharp and humorless. “That’s not an answer.”
Matteo’s phone buzzed again. Another directive. Elena watched his thumb move, watched him decide - right now - what rules he would break and what consequences he could live with.
He didn’t look at Elena when he spoke. “We’ll comply.”
The officer’s expression eased slightly, like the right words had finally arrived.
Matteo raised his hands slowly, palms out.
Elena felt her chest constrict. “Matteo - ”
“Stay close,” he murmured, and his gaze flicked to her face like a warning. “Don’t reach for anything.”
Elena didn’t know which part of her wanted to obey and which part wanted to tear the corridor apart until Tomas was found and the lie was ripped open.
She kept her hands at her sides anyway, because Matteo was standing between her and the moment where she’d do something irreversible.
The officer gestured. “Move.”
Two officers stepped forward. Their boots struck the floor with a rhythm that made Elena think of marching, of inevitability. Their hands weren’t rough yet, but Elena could tell they would be if she gave them a reason.
As Elena moved, her shoulder brushed the wall. It was cold paint, slick with something - either condensation or the lingering damp from someone else’s panic. She smelled it, and it made her stomach twist.
Matteo fell in step beside her.
Elena tried to keep her eyes forward, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching Matteo’s mouth. He wasn’t speaking. He was reading. And she could feel the tension rolling off him like heat from a machine.
The corridor’s cameras tracked them as they walked. The glass domes above the hallways reflected their movement back at them, turning every step into evidence.