“Tony made sure the tunnel explosives are ready.”
Explosives.
Marcus had planned every escape.
Every route.
Every backup.
Someone had spent months studying Vincent’s habits.
Someone Vincent had personally trained.
Elena leaned closer.
“They’ve been preparing this for almost eight months.”
Vincent looked at her.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You said nothing.”
“I had no proof.”
She lowered her eyes.
“And because nobody notices the maid.”
For the first time that night, Vincent truly looked at her.
She wasn’t afraid for herself.
She was afraid for him.
That made no sense.
Unless…
“Who are you?” he whispered.
Elena hesitated.
Outside, footsteps drifted farther away.
She reached into her apron.
Instead of a cleaning cloth…
She pulled out an old silver badge.
Not police.
Military.
Italian intelligence.
“My real name isn’t Elena Rossi.”
Vincent blinked.
“My name is Elena Bianchi.”
“I’ve been undercover for three years.”
