Chapter 2 - The Black Card in My Apron
For almost ten seconds, I forgot how to speak.
That was impressive.
According to Maya, silence and I had been estranged since kindergarten.
I took Nico’s phone.
The photograph did not change.
My name remained there.
So did the warning.
SIENNA BROOKS.
DO NOT TRUST NICO.
I looked up.
Nico stood three feet away.
Tall.
Still.
Unreadable.
Exactly the kind of man a missing accountant might warn somebody about.
“That’s awkward,” I said.
His eyebrow lifted.
“You think?”
“I’m trying not to panic.”
“You’re doing an unusual version of it.”
“Talking prevents screaming.”
“Keep talking.”
That almost sounded kind.
I hated that.
“Did you kill Martin Keller?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt him?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you had?”
“Yes.”
“That answer is suspiciously efficient.”
Nico held out his hand.
“My phone.”
I returned it.
“Am I supposed to get into your car now?”
“No.”
I glanced at the blood.
“Good.”
“We’re taking another one.”
“That was not the part I objected to.”
Nico made two calls.
Within minutes, a dark sedan rolled from a secured section of the garage.
The driver, a broad-shouldered man named Luca, stepped out.
He looked at me.
Then at Nico.
Then at my pink apron.
“Sir?”
“She comes with us.”
Luca nodded as if Nico routinely brought sarcastic waitresses home after assassination attempts.
I did not appreciate how unsurprising he made it look.
“My purse is upstairs.”
“Victor will bring it.”
“My phone too.”
Nico reached inside his jacket and handed me mine.
I stared at him.
“How do you have this?”
“You dropped it in the hallway.”
“And you picked it up while carrying me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s annoyingly competent.”
“Get in.”
I got in.
Not because he ordered me to.
Because someone had shot at a wall behind me.
There were limits to rebellion.
Luca drove.
Nico sat beside me in the back.
The black card rested between us inside a clear plastic evidence pouch he had produced from somewhere.
I decided not to ask why a restaurant owner carried evidence pouches.
The city slid past outside.
At nearly two in the morning, downtown looked different.
Empty intersections.
Delivery trucks.
Neon reflected against dark glass.
Vesper disappeared behind us.
“Where are we going?”
“My house.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because I have watched television.”
Nico looked at me.
“Meaning?”
“Woman gets taken to mysterious powerful man’s mansion after midnight. Historically, that is not an encouraging setup.”
“You would rather go home?”
“Yes.”
“Your address is 1148 West Addison, apartment 3C.”
I froze.
Nico continued.
“Your lease is in your name. Your emergency contact is Maya Torres. Your building has one camera at the front entrance and no security after eleven.”
I stared.
“How do you know that?”
“I own Vesper. Human resources has your records.”
“That is deeply creepy.”
“It’s employment paperwork.”
“You memorized it?”
“No. Luca checked three minutes ago.”
Luca raised one hand slightly from the steering wheel.
“Sorry.”
At least he sounded sincere.
Nico looked back at me.
“If the men upstairs know your name, your apartment is the first place they’ll check.”
I hated that he was right.
“So I’m supposed to trust the man a missing accountant explicitly told me not to trust?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“No?”
“Trust is earned.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Stay alive long enough to decide.”
For some reason, that landed harder than a reassurance would have.
We drove twenty-five minutes beyond downtown.
The buildings thinned.
Gates appeared.
Large homes disappeared behind trees.
Eventually Luca turned through two sets of security barriers and onto a long private drive.
Nico’s estate was not what I expected.
I had imagined gold statues.
Maybe lions.
Possibly a moat.
Instead, the house was stone and glass, modern without looking cold, surrounded by dark trees and carefully placed outdoor lights.
“You live here alone?”
“No.”
“Wife?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
Nico looked at me.
“Is this relevant?”
“I’m determining how many people might object to you bringing home a waitress at two thirty in the morning.”
“None.”
I tried very hard not to notice the exact wording.
Inside, the house was quiet.
A woman in her sixties named Rosa met us in the foyer wearing a cardigan over pajamas.
“Nico.”
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
Her eyes moved to me.
No judgment.
Only concern.
“This is Sienna.”
“I gathered.”
I looked at Nico.
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing.”
Rosa smiled.
“He hasn’t brought a woman through the front door in years.”
I nearly choked.
Nico closed his eyes briefly.
“Rosa.”
“What? I’m old. Let me enjoy things.”
I liked her immediately.
She brought me water and a plate of food despite my insistence that I was not hungry.
Apparently I was starving.
I ate half a grilled cheese sandwich while Nico and Luca disappeared into a study with the black card.
Then I remembered something.
“Maya.”
I grabbed my phone.
Sixteen missed calls.
I called.
She answered before the first ring completed.
“Sienna?”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you kidnapped?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Why did you answer that so fast?”
“I’m at Nico’s house.”
“That is not helping.”
“I’m safe.”
“Define safe.”
“Nobody is shooting at the walls.”
“That is an alarmingly low standard.”
I explained as much as I could without mentioning Martin’s card.
Maya breathed heavily.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I’m your best friend.”
“And that is why you’re staying away from whatever this is.”
“Sienna—”
“I mean it.”
Maya fell quiet.
Then she said, “Victor sent everyone home except management. Police came.”
“What did they say?”
“That whoever fired upstairs was gone before they arrived. One round recovered from the wall.”
I glanced toward the study.
“Nico said anything?”
“No. He left with you.”
There was something in her voice.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Maya.”
She hesitated.
“The two men didn’t just walk in.”
My stomach tightened.
“How did they get inside?”
“That’s the thing.”
I waited.
“The front doors never opened.”
I stopped chewing.
“What?”
“Victor checked the alarm log. They were already inside before closing.”
A chill moved over my arms.
“Where?”
“No one knows.”
“How is that possible?”
“Apparently Vesper has service corridors employees don’t use.”
I looked toward Nico’s study.
Private entrances.
Rumors.
Hidden hallways.
A missing accountant.
Do not trust Nico.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Sienna, please be careful.”
“I will.”
“You poked a suspected mafia boss twice because he blocked a clipboard.”
“That was pre-trauma Sienna.”
“I don’t think trauma cured you.”
She had a point.
I hung up.
The study door opened.
Nico appeared.
His jacket was gone.
His charcoal shirt sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
For reasons that felt unfair, this made him more intimidating.
And more attractive.
Also unfair.
“Did you open it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s encrypted.”
“Can you decrypt it?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“The card has a hardware lock. Three failed attempts erase everything.”
“Oh.”
“We need someone who knows Martin’s system.”
“Who?”
Nico did not answer.
I stood.
“You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Deciding which answers I’m allowed to have.”
His jaw tightened.
“You were a waitress checking a schedule ninety minutes ago.”
“I’m still a waitress.”
“You’re carrying information that people are willing to kill for.”
“Then maybe I deserve more information, not less.”
He studied me.
“Fair.”
That one word changed the temperature between us.
He motioned toward the study.
I followed.
Luca stood near a desk covered with three monitors.
On one screen was a photograph of Martin Keller.
The man I had served.
No doubt.
“That’s him.”
Nico looked at me.
“You’re certain?”
“One hundred percent.”
Luca swore quietly.
“Why is that bad?” I asked.
Nico answered.
“Because Martin’s wife identified his body three weeks ago.”
I stared.
“You said he disappeared.”
“He did. Then a body matching his dental records was found after a warehouse fire.”
“Matching?”
“Dental records can be altered.”
“You think the body wasn’t his?”
“I think you served him coffee tonight.”
That seemed difficult to argue with.
Nico enlarged another file.
Accounting records filled the screen.
“Martin managed books for Vesper Holdings and several legitimate companies I own.”
The way he said legitimate made me look at him.
He noticed.
“Ask.”
“Do you own illegitimate companies?”
“No.”
“Have you ever?”
A pause.
“My family did.”
There it was.
Not quite a confession.
Not quite denial.
“My father built businesses using methods I refused to continue.”
“What methods?”
“Extortion. Bribery. Violence.”
The words were spoken without pride.
“My father died eight years ago. I spent the years after that separating legal businesses from everything else.”
“Is that why people call you—”
“A mafia boss?”
“Yes.”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
“Fear is useful.”
That answer was so honest it unsettled me more than a denial.
Luca tapped the screen.
“Martin discovered something four months ago.”
“What?”
“We don’t know,” Nico said. “He requested archived financial records dating back twelve years. Then he became nervous. Then he disappeared.”
I looked at the card.
“Maybe this tells you.”
“Maybe.”
“Then find someone who can open it.”
Nico and Luca exchanged a look.
I caught it.
“Oh no. What?”
“There is one person,” Luca said.
“Who?”
“Nico’s former financial-security consultant.”
“What happened to him?”
Nico’s mouth flattened.
“He betrayed me.”
“Fantastic. Call him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he tried to sell my internal records to a rival group five years ago.”
“So you fired him?”
“I broke his access and put him on a plane.”
“Very mature.”
Nico stared.
“I was twenty years younger emotionally.”
“You were thirty-two.”
“Exactly.”
Luca coughed to hide a laugh.
Nico ignored him.
“His name is Elias Ward. If Martin built the card around the old security system, Elias might open it.”
“Where is he?”
“New York.”
“Call him.”
Nico shook his head.
“He won’t answer me.”
“Give me his number.”
Both men stared.
“What?”
“You said he hates you.”
“Yes.”
“Then he might enjoy talking to the woman you dragged out of your restaurant over your shoulder.”
“I did not drag you.”
“That is the part you object to?”
Twenty minutes later, Elias Ward answered my call.
His voice was rough with sleep.
“Who is this?”
“Sienna Brooks.”
“Should I know that name?”
“No, but Nico Valente probably wishes you didn’t.”
Silence.
Then laughter.
Actual delighted laughter.
“This is already the best phone call I’ve had in years.”
Nico glared at me from across the desk.
I smiled sweetly.
“We need help opening something built by Martin Keller.”
Elias stopped laughing.
“What did you say?”
“Martin Keller.”
A long pause.
“Where did you get it?”
“Get what?”
“The card.”
I looked at Nico.
He heard it too.
“You know about the card?” I asked.
Elias breathed out slowly.
“Listen carefully. Do not plug it into anything connected to a network.”
“We haven’t.”
“Good.”
“What’s on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew Martin?”
“Yes.”
“Is he alive?”
Another silence.
Then Elias said, “He was when I saw him eight days ago.”
Nico stepped forward.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Where?” Nico demanded.
Elias went quiet.
“Still giving orders, Valente?”
“Where is Martin?”
“Not somewhere you can reach him.”
“People came into Vesper tonight.”
“I know.”
That was worse.
“How?” I asked.
Elias ignored the question.
“Does the card have a scratched V symbol?”
“Yes.”
“Then Martin chose you.”
“I met him once.”
“No. He chose someone who didn’t belong to Nico.”
My gaze shifted toward Nico.
The warning on the receipt suddenly felt heavier.
“Why me?”
“Because Martin believed everyone close to Nico had been compromised.”
Luca straightened.
Nico’s expression sharpened.
“By whom?”
Elias spoke quietly.
“Someone inside your organization.”
Nobody moved.
I looked at Luca.
Luca looked at Nico.
Nico looked at nobody.
“Can you open it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“There’s a device hidden in Martin’s old office.”
Nico frowned.
“His office was cleared.”
“You didn’t find this.”
“Where?”
Elias gave an address.
Not Vesper.
A building near the river.
I wrote it down.
Then Elias said something that made Nico grab the phone from my hand.
“Do not go there tonight.”
“Why?” Nico demanded.
“Because Martin told me the moment that card moved, whoever was watching him would know.”
Nico’s face hardened.
“What do you mean ‘moved’?”
“It contains a proximity beacon.”
I stared at the small black card sitting on the desk.
A light appeared on its edge.
One tiny green pulse.
Then another.
Luca swore.
Nico grabbed the card and shoved it into a metal lockbox.
Too late.
Outside the study, the estate alarm began to scream.
Luca looked at the security monitor.
His face drained.
“Nico.”
On the screen, the front gate stood open.
May you like
A black vehicle was already coming up the driveway.
And according to the security system, nobody had opened the gate.
