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.”
Silence.
“I was assigned to watch you.”
Vincent almost laughed.
“Government?”
She nodded.
“They believed eventually someone inside your organization would betray you.”
“They were right.”
“You’ve been spying on me.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve reported everything.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
