Page 69 of Stalk Me

Dmitri’s perfect composure cracks for a moment. “That’s not normal protocol for?—”

“Because it’s not protocol at all,” I cut in, scanning the surveillance photos. “Isaac, what do our banking connections say?”

Isaac adjusts his glasses. “Large fund transfers from government-controlled banks to shell companies we’ve linked to the Triads. They’re being backed by someone high up in the Party.”

“Shit,” Alexi mutters, fingers flying across his keyboard. “The encryption on these transfers is military-grade. Not their usual level.”

Katya clears her throat. “The art shipments we were planning to move through Hong Kong?—”

“Cancel them,” I order. “Reroute everything through Singapore for now.”

“The additional costs—” Marcus begins.

“Are nothing compared to losing an entire shipment,” Erik interrupts. “Or worse.”

I study the satellite images, my mind racing through contingencies. This isn’t just business anymore. The Chinese military’s involvement changes everything.

“Dmitri, how quickly can we liquidate our regional holdings?”

“Seventy-two hours, minimum. But it will raise flags.”

“Do it anyway. Viktor, I want our people out of Shanghai by tomorrow night. Alexi?—”

“Already scrubbing our digital footprint,” he confirms without looking up.

The morning sun feels colder now as I process the implications. We’re not just dealing with rival criminals anymore. This is state-level interference.

“Isaac, prepare the emergency protocols. If they’re tracing our legitimate businesses...”

“I’ll start moving everything offshore,” he nods. “Through the Nordic routes?”

“Yes. Katya, you’ll need to?—”

A sharp knock interrupts us. One of Erik’s security team enters, face grim. “Sir, we have a problem at the gallery.”

My blood runs cold as Erik’s man delivers the news. “The gallery’s been hit. Four men, professional. They took Ms. Henley.”

The room spins for a moment as rage and fear war inside me. “How?” I demand, my voice deadly quiet.

“They hit during the shift change. Smoke grenades, military precision. In and out in under two minutes.”

I pull up the security feed on my tablet, watching the scene unfold. The timing, the execution—this wasn’t random. My eyes catch a familiar tattoo on one of the attackers’ wrists as he drags my unconscious Sofia into a waiting van.

“Castellano.” The name tastes like ash in my mouth. “They found her.”

Dmitri curses in Russian. “How did they?—”

“Doesn’t matter,” I cut him off, already moving. “Erik, full tactical team. Alexi, track that van. Use everything possible—traffic cams, satellites, whatever it takes.”

“Already on it,” Alexi’s fingers fly across his keyboard. “They’re heading south on I-93.”

I check my weapon as Erik barks orders into his phone. The Castellanos have been searching for their lost heir for twenty years. Now they’ve found her—my Sofia—and think they can simply take what’s mine.

Her father’s wife doesn’t want Sofia to be found alive, which means her fate hangs in the balance.

“Sir,” Viktor steps forward. “My team spotted Mario Castellano landing at Logan International three hours ago.”

Of course. The old man himself came to collect his long-lost granddaughter. He’ll try to convince her of her true identity, turn her against me. The thought of Sofia learning everything from him instead of me tightens my chest.

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