Chapter One Hundred and Six

Genevieve shifted nervously on her feet, the tension knotting her stomach as she waited for Matteo to unlock the door to their apartment. The muted sounds of his voice drifted from inside, clipped and sharp.

“Bennett,” Matteo repeated with a hint of irritation. “Noah Bennett.” The door swung open, and without hesitation, Gen slipped past him. “Jesus, Gen,” he muttered, but she paid him no mind, her mind racing faster than her feet.

Inside, Matteo was still barking orders into his phone, his tone businesslike and cold. Gen hurried down the hallway, her heart pounding as she entered the sunroom—a small, bright space where sunlight filtered through large windows, illuminating the scattered boxes she hadn’t yet unpacked. Without hesitation, she tore at the tape sealing the first box, tossing its contents haphazardly onto the floor. Frustration bubbled up, and she cursed under her breath, flinging the empty box aside before tearing into the next one.

“Gen…” Matteo’s voice called from the doorway, finally off the phone. “What are you looking for?”

She paused, fingers tangled in her hair, eyes wild with desperation. The silence stretched for a moment before she pushed the second box aside with a sharp motion.

“Genevieve,” he said again, softer this time.

Suddenly, she exclaimed, “Aha!” holding up the bug detector triumphantly. She turned, offering him a determined nod before striding back toward the hallway.

“Is that…” Matteo began.

“Yup,” she confirmed without hesitation.

“Why do you need that right now?” he asked, following her into his office.

Gen began sweeping the device over the bookcases, starting from the highest shelves and moving downward. Her eyes flicked nervously between the blinking screen and the shelves. Then, at about eye level, the detector emitted a sharp alarm—it was a sound it had never made before. Matteo appeared beside her in an instant. She instinctively stepped back as he reached for a book, pulling it aside to reveal a small device with a blinking red light hidden behind it. His fist clenched and unclenched, tension radiating from his body as his dark eyes locked onto the spy gadget. With a quick, decisive motion, he plucked it from the shelf.

His body twisted slowly, but his gaze never wavered from the device. Then, with a sharp snap and a faint electrical pop, he crushed it in his hand. When his eyes flicked up to meet hers, the raw emotion in his glare—betrayal, accusation, and a seething anger—sent chills racing down her spine. His jaw twitched, and without another word, he stormed toward his desk.

Frustration and urgency filled the room as he tore through the drawers, yanking them out and scattering their contents across the floor. His hands searched every nook and cranny, desperate to find any other hidden devices that Becca might have planted. Then, he froze. Gen watched as he withdrew his hands from beneath the desk and touched the side of his laptop. Carefully, he removed something plugged into the USB port—a tiny device, smaller than a typical USB stick, designed to remain unseen by anyone who believed their home was secure. Matteo laid the device gently on his desk, his fingers splayed wide on the wood as he stared down at it, trying to comprehend the extent of this betrayal.

“What is that?” Gen asked cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s a keystroke logger,” Matteo explained, his tone low and dangerous. “It records everything I type and sends it to whoever’s receiving the data.”

“And the one you already destroyed?” she pressed.

“That one was a listening device,” he replied grimly.

“Why don’t you just destroy this one too?” she asked, bewildered.

“I need it intact,” he said. “I have to see what information it captured.”

“Are you going to call Marco?” she inquired, hope flickering in her voice.

“No,” he answered curtly.

A knock echoed at the front door, but Matteo seemed oblivious to it.

Gen started toward the hallway. “I’ll—”

“Don’t move, Weakness,” he growled sharply.

Matteo pushed off the desk and drew his handgun from his waistband, flicking off the safety with a smoothness that made her skin crawl. She shook herself, trying to focus, as he strode into the hallway. Clutching the bug detector Becca had given her months ago, Gen felt a bitter irony twist in her chest—how the very device she’d trusted had uncovered a painful betrayal.

Frustrated beyond words, she hurled the detector against the wall. The plastic shattered into countless fragments, and the hole in her stomach seemed to shrink with the breaking pieces. She sank heavily into the armchair opposite Matteo’s desk, replaying the last few conversations she’d had with Becca while their roommates were visiting. Becca had seemed nervous, even ashamed—signs Gen had overlooked because Becca was always shy and uneasy in new situations. She had confided in Gen about a recent encounter with her brother, and none of it had raised alarms at the time. Gen sighed deeply. What if Frankie hadn’t interrupted Becca’s story that night before dinner? Would she have confessed everything then?

“You should have stepped in the moment Sergei approached her,” Matteo’s voice rumbled from down the hall, laced with frustration.

“You said you wanted to punish her,” Leo argued from the doorway. “I thought that meant letting a man or two make a pass.”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Matteo snapped. “You should have known I wouldn’t stand for it. It’s your job to protect us both.”

“I’m supposed to protect you physically, not read your emotions like you’re some toddler,” Leo retorted, stepping closer. “I don’t appreciate some punk who thought he could escape me in a rowboat when he was fourteen telling me how to do my job.”

Gen raised an eyebrow. “A rowboat? Really, Leo?”

“Now’s not the time,” Matteo growled.

Leo cracked a smile. “A swan rowboat, actually.”

Gen giggled despite the tension. “How’d you catch him?”

“Walked around to the other side of the pond and waited,” Leo said, shaking his head toward Matteo, who looked thoroughly annoyed.

“Are you done?” Matteo asked, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you?” Leo shot back.

Matteo’s gaze snapped to his bodyguard. “Have you heard from Frankie?”

“No sign of him,” Leo replied.

“What about Becca Bennett?” Matteo asked, glancing subtly at Gen, who felt her stomach twist and bile rise in her throat.

“We had some of our guys search the house,” Leo said.

“Oh God,” Gen whispered, burying her face in her hands.

“No one was home,” Leo assured her. “Including Becca. Based on what Bennett told Miss Sinclair, he was prepared—probably has her holed up in a safehouse somewhere.”

“Get in touch with the team we worked with in Boston,” Matteo ordered firmly. “Bennett was gone by then, so their loyalty is ours. I want her found by the end of the day.” He exhaled deeply and tapped the keystroke logger idly on his desk. “Pull up Frankie’s tracker data and get him back here. I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking, but I need him.”

“Right,” Leo said, turning to carry out the orders.

“I’m not done,” Matteo called after him.

“Do I need to get a pen?” Leo asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

“Marco.”

“What about him?”

Matteo held up the keystroke logger again. Leo stepped forward, taking the device from Matteo’s hand. His eyes shifted from curious to dark with anger.

“Take him to the box,” Leo commanded. “Call Stephen and have him meet us here in an hour to help move our things to the safehouse.”

Leo nodded sharply, the humor drained from his face as he strode out, device in hand.

“We’re going to the safehouse?” Gen asked as Matteo rose from his desk.

“Immediately,” he confirmed. “Once Leo confirms Marco is at the box, I’ll have to go there myself.”

“What?” Gen jumped up, moving to follow him.

“Pack the essentials, Genevieve,” Matteo ordered, pulling a duffel bag from under their bed.

“Matteo, what is ‘the box’?” she asked, watching him pace around the bedroom, gathering only what he considered necessary.

“You don’t want to know,” he warned.

“Is that where you’ll take Becca when you find her?” she asked, a nervous lump rising in her throat. Suddenly, dizziness washed over her, and she leaned against the doorframe for support.

Matteo’s hands stilled inside the dresser drawer. He pressed his palms against the edge, leaning heavily as his head bowed forward. A long, heavy sigh escaped him. “What do you want me to do with her?” His voice was low, filled with a deadly edge that made her heart skip.

“I don’t want her to die,” Gen whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t think she did this willingly.”

“I don’t want my men to die,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I don’t want my friends to go to jail. I don’t want to destroy a business my family built over generations…” He cut himself off, shutting his eyes tightly to control his rising fury. “If she was in trouble, she could have come to you. We would have helped her.”

“How was she supposed to know…” Gen began.

Matteo slammed his palm down on the dresser, silencing her. “Your friend walked in here knowing exactly who and what you were involved with. She knew where this would lead. She knew they wouldn’t just come for me and my operation… They would come for you, too.”

Gen tore her gaze away from his fierce glare, staring at the nightstand across the room, fighting back tears. She closed her eyes, but one tear slipped free, breaking through the dam she’d tried to hold.

Matteo sighed again. “We will find her. We’ll interrogate her and figure out what she knows. Then…” He looked down at a pair of black socks in his hands. “Then we decide what happens next.” His phone rang, and he let out a weary breath, casting a long look at Gen as she fought to keep her tears at bay. He answered, voice sharp. “What is it?” Whatever was said made a flicker of sinister excitement flash across his eyes. “That was quick, old man. I’ll be there as soon as Stephen arrives.” He hung up, shaking his head with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“What is it?” Gen asked.

“Leo found Marco.”

“Already?”

“He knew we were coming. Marco is many things, but a coward isn’t one of them. I’ll meet them after I get you safe in the—”

“I want to go.”

Matteo snorted, slamming the drawer shut. “Hell no.”

“Matteo, I want to hear what he has to say.”

“I’ll tell you when I get home.”

Gen grabbed his upper arm as he tried to pass her. His eyes flicked from her firm grip to the defiant look in her gaze. “The device you found—it’s his, isn’t it?” Matteo nodded slowly. Gen took a deep breath. “He manipulated one of my best friends. I’m going. Matteo.”