Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Sofia woke to cold sheets and the smell of burnt coffee.
Tonio was already up—boots on, shirt half-buttoned, leaning over the cheap motel coffee maker. He moved like everything mattered: scanning the door, checking shadows, pouring coffee with the same focus he used when firing a weapon. His gun sat on the table beside his chair like a second heartbeat.
The walls were back up.
Sofia sat slowly, pulling the blanket around her legs. Her mind was painfully clear.
I remove problems.
I’m the wall.
He hadn’t said it for effect. He wasn’t trying to scare her or win her over. It was just the
truth of who he was.
She watched him for a long moment. Most people would see intimidation—the gun, the posture, the unblinking assessment of every shadow in the room. She didn’t see danger; she saw exhaustion—weight he never put down. Tonio wasn’t just dangerous—he was also burdened.
She grew up watching her mother live in fear—always scanning exits, always ready to run. That life left no room for roots, trust, or love. Tonio didn’t run. He stayed—no matter the cost.
Her fingers tangled in the blanket as she pulled her knees to her chest. The path of the woman she was supposed to be was clear. It was the one her mother had mapped out with a lifetime of fear: run, disappear, never look back. It was the safe choice. The sane choice.
But she could still feel the ghost of his thumb on her shoulder, steadying her in the dark.
Tonio didn’t drag her into this. She walked toward him.
He turned from the counter, steam rising from the mug in his hand. When he saw her awake, his gaze swept over her—a quick assessment, checking her state like he would check a perimeter.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he said, voice rough.
“Maybe.”
He set the coffee on the table beside her—not offered, just placed within reach. Close enough for her to take if she wanted it. His walls were back up. Hers weren’t.
“Tonio?”
He stopped.
“I heard you last night,” she said. “All of it.”
His face gave nothing away.
“You carry the weight,” she said quietly. “So they don’t have to.”
A small twitch at his jaw. She saw the hit land.
“And you think that changes something?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
She stood. Bare feet on cheap carpet. No hesitation.
“It makes me want to carry some of it with you.”
For the first time that morning, the wall cracked. Not much. Just enough for her to see the man behind it.
The silence in the car was different this time.
It wasn’t the heavy quiet of trauma, or the taut stillness that comes before a fight.
This was purposeful, shared. Sofia watched the landscape change, the dusty plains giving way to hints of green, the first whisper of the Northeast rolling in under a low sun.
They weren’t just running anymore. They were moving toward something, toward a plan.
An hour after crossing the border into New York, Tonio turned onto a narrow, unmarked road cutting through dense woods. A rusted gate blocked the way, looking abandoned by design. He tapped a sequence into a hidden panel. A pause, a click. The gate swung open like it had been waiting for him.
The safe house appeared moments later: a weathered A-frame cabin with a sagging porch, the perfect decoy. From the outside, it looked ordinary, quiet. Inside, it was anything but.
Tonio stepped over the threshold and punched in another code.
Dim overhead lights flickered on, revealing reinforced walls, blackout curtains, and monitors glowing with live camera feeds.
Against one wall, a sleek workstation hummed, rows of laptops open, burner phones charging, servers softly vibrating.
Sofia lingered at the doorway, absorbing it all. “This is... a lot,” she said, more to herself than him.
“It’s enough,” Tonio replied without looking at her, checking system logs as if routine and survival were indistinguishable.
She rubbed her arms. “And it’s safe?”
“For now,” he said, voice steady. “Luc doesn’t do half-measures. No one’s tracking us here.”
She nodded, but the adrenaline still buzzed under her skin. Her pulse hadn’t slowed. Her thoughts were still tangled in the chaos of the last few days, in the sharp scent of dust and gunfire that clung to her memory.
Tonio finally looked up, catching her gaze for the briefest moment. She felt the weight of his presence settle over her—solid, unyielding, protective. It wasn’t comfort. It wasn’t warmth. It was a responsibility. And in that, a strange reassurance.
“Shower’s through there,” he said, nodding toward a side door. “Hot water’s good. I’ll secure the perimeter.”
It was a dismissal, but not a cold one—a practical reset, a way to reclaim control over the chaos. She gave a faint nod and slipped inside the bathroom, letting the lock click behind her.
The tiled room smelled faintly of disinfectant, and the low hum of the cabin’s systems vibrated through the floor. She let her shoulders slump, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It wasn’t peace. Not yet. But it was a standstill, and for now, that was enough.
Sofia grabbed a towel from the clean stack in the safe house’s bathroom. The shower had washed away the grime, but the tension was a deeper stain, lingering in her muscles. Wrapped in a thin cotton robe, she stepped back into the main room.
Tonio was at a workstation, a laptop open, his profile sharp in the bluish light. The purposeful silence from the car had followed them inside.
She hesitated, her damp hair cool against her neck. “The senator. What’s our next move?”
That got his full attention. His hands stilled. He closed the laptop, then stood and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before sitting on the foot of the bed, facing her. The space between them felt charged, no longer with unsaid desire, but with strategy.
“We need proof. Real proof,” he said, his voice low. “Right now, all we have are suspicions. If we move too soon, we tip our hand. He goes on the defensive, and we lose our shot.”
Sofia nodded, crossing her arms. “I have sources. I’m freelance, but some people owe me favors.”
Tonio studied her, then gave a small nod.
“His accounts,” she said, sitting up straighter. “If he’s laundering money or paying people off, there’s a trail. It would show us who’s protecting him.”
Tonio smirked. “You planning to hack into a U.S. senator’s finances?”
“Not me,” she said evenly. “But I know someone who can.”
His smirk widened. “I like the way you think, Bella.”
She ignored the warmth in her chest. “We also need someone inside his circle.”
His expression darkened. “That’s trickier. He’s careful. One hint, and they’re gone.”
“I know,” Sofia said. “But we won’t take him down from the outside. We need someone close.”
Tonio exhaled. “I might have a guy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, he’s ex-private security. He protected politicians, senators, and CEOs. But he got burned, then went underground. He has a scar down his neck from a knife fight in Jakarta. And he’s the quiet, dangerous type.”
“That’s a start.” She reached for the burner phone. “I’ll talk to my guy about the accounts. You check in with yours.”
“Is your guy trustworthy?”
Sofia froze. “Yes. We’re more business acquaintances, but he has always been a reliable source of information.”
Before she could dial, Tonio caught her wrist. His gaze was steady. “Once we start this, there’s no backing out.”
Sofia swallowed. She knew that. But this wasn’t just about exposing corruption—it was about survival.
“You said that in the car, too. Even if I wanted to, there is no turning back because they already sent people to kill me. It’s been decided that the best way to neutralize me as a threat is death.
I’m not backing down. It’s the only way to ensure my survival, and it’s the only way to get justice for my mother. ”
“It’s not the only way to ensure your survival.
It’s the only way to get justice for your mother, but I can ensure your survival if you choose to walk away from all this.
That’s why I asked, because once we start digging further and unearthing buried evidence, there is no going back. It’s gonna be him or us.”
Him or us. Us. His commitment to helping her in the face of such an enemy was as baffling as it was relieving to have someone—someone she was slowly feeling like she could let close—in her corner. “I’m not backing down.”
She carried the burner into the second bedroom, a sparse space dominated by a folding table covered in electronics. The fans from two open laptops whirred softly. Through the wall, she could hear the low rumble of Tonio’s voice—he was already making his call.
She stared at the encrypted messaging app, the cursor blinking in the empty chat window. Her contact wasn’t someone she could just call. He moved in the digital shadows, constantly changing aliases. It had taken her over an hour to find his latest handle.
She typed: Need intel. Urgent. She added their old code—a failsafe to prove she wasn’t compromised.
Seconds ticked by. Her fingers drummed against the desk. If he didn’t answer—
The phone vibrated. A reply. “I’m retired.”
Sofia exhaled. Sure you are, she typed back. That’s why you answered in under a minute.
A pause. Then: “What’s the job?”
Even encrypted, she wouldn’t put specifics in writing. Need to talk. Securely.
Another pause. Then: “Five minutes. Usual spot.”
She closed the app. Their old failsafe—an untraceable voice channel on a buried server. She grabbed a laptop and followed the connection protocols.
A distorted voice answered. “Sofia.”
“Wraith.”
A low chuckle. “Still stirring up trouble?”
“Depends on who you ask.” She leaned forward. “I need access to someone’s financials.
Deep access.”
Silence. Then: “Corporate?”
“Senator.”
A sharp inhale. “Shit.”
“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”
Wraith exhaled. “This is federal. If I get caught—”
“You won’t,” Sofia cut in. “You never do.”
The silence stretched. “What’s he into?”