Enzo looked like he hadn't slept in days, the shadows under his eyes matching the darkness we'd uncovered. "Remember that interior designer who's been throwing herself at me at Sotto Voce? Turns out she's handling the finishing touches for Alessandro's clinic expansion. She was eager to impress me with her latest high-profile project."
"And the other documents?"
"She brought her whole portfolio to the club last night. Amazing what people leave unattended when they're trying to get anotherdrink." His smile held no humor. "Had my guys photograph everything while she was distracted. But it's what wasn't in the official plans that got my attention."
"The discrepancies." Vincenzo moved from his spot by the window, pointing to specific areas. "See these load-bearing walls? They're rated for much more weight than a wellness clinic would need. And these elevator shafts." His finger traced the drawings. "They go down, but the plans only show them going up."
"It's exactly like Miami," Luca said quietly, and the room went still. Two years ago, we'd uncovered something similar hidden beneath another "wellness center" in South Beach. "The same basement layout. Same security setup. Same hidden elevator shafts."
"We were too late to stop it before it was operational," Rocco added, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. The memory of what we'd found there still haunted us all.
"Could be nothing," Nico said from where he sat, but his voice held doubt. "Except..."
"There's something else," Angelo said, spreading out more papers. "My contact at Alessandro's Boston clinic mentioned unusual patient transfers between his facilities. Women who check in for 'extended treatment' and then disappear from the system entirely."
"And now he's looking to expand," Enzo added grimly. "My bartender overheard him at the club last night, getting careless after a few drinks. Started talking about some partnership with Vittorio, something about medical supply chains. Kept going on about how Providence was going to make him a fortune."
"Vittorio's ports," I said, the pieces clicking into place. "Perfect cover for moving people through medical supply chains."
"It gets worse." Enzo's voice had that edge that meant whatever was coming would make me want to kill someone. "Alessandro's not just interested in Vittorio's shipping routes. He wants legitimacy. A seat at the big table."
My hand clenched around the papers, already knowing where this was going. "Pearl."
"Alessandro's been meeting with De Luca," Enzo added, naming Vittorio's long-time lawyer. "Three times this week. And he's suddenly showing up at all these society events, talking about 'strengthening old family ties.'"
"He was at the Rosetti wedding," Vincenzo noted quietly. "Asking a lot of questions about traditional ceremonies, family contracts."
Something cold settled in my gut as the pieces clicked together. De Luca only handled Vittorio's most important contracts - the ones that needed to look perfectly legitimate. And there was only one thing that would give Alessandro both legitimacy and access to Vittorio's world.
"Son of a bitch," Rocco growled, clearly reaching the same conclusion. "He's planning to marry her."
"Over all our dead bodies," Angelo growled, and seven voices echoed agreement, the room practically vibrating with barely contained violence.
"Construction starts Monday," Nico added grimly. "Once they begin the renovations..."
"We shut it down," I cut in. "All of it. Before he can expand beyond what he's already involved in."
"It won't be enough," a soft voice said from the doorway. "Not without proof that connects both of them to what's already happening."
Pearl stood there, dawn light in her hair. Something about her made my chest tight, how she could seem so small and yet so damn determined.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, even as every part of me ached to pull her closer. Nico's slight shift beside me spoke volumes.
"I heard enough." She moved into the room with that grace that always caught me off guard. Luca's usual smirk softened as she passed him, his attempt at lightness failing to mask his worry—like she belonged here in our world of shadows and secrets. Her eyes caught on the architectural drawings, and I saw the shadows of old memories flicker across her face. "Alessandro's been to the penthouse," she said softly. "They always turn up the music in the study when they talk. Like I wouldn't notice."
"Then you know why you need to stay far away from this," Enzo said, his usual smooth charm falling for just a moment as he moved to block her view of the plans.
"No." She slipped past him with that quiet determination that had first caught my attention in the interrogation room. "I know exactly where Vittorio keeps the real documents. I've seen him updating the shipping manifests late at night, watched him take those calls about 'special medical transport.' That hideous Picasso in his study, there's a safe behind it. I memorized the sequence when he thought no one was watching."
"Are you seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Angelo's voice was deadly quiet. Vincenzo's eyes met Pearl's for a fraction of a second, something unspoken passing between them.
"I go back." The words fell soft but sure, like she'd already made her peace with them. "Play the role he created for me one last time. Let him think his lessons took hold." Something flickered in her eyes. "Let Alessandro think he's winning."
"Absolutely not." The words ripped from my throat before I could stop them.
"Please listen," she said, holding her ground despite seven sets of eyes burning with protective fury. Her voice held that blend of steel and silk I'd come to know so well. "I know his routines, his security, every corner of that penthouse. I know when he takes his evening calls, when he updates his records." A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "I know that house better than anyone," she said. "The safe behind the Picasso, the late-night phone calls, the shipment records he keeps updating..."
"You're talking about walking right back into his hands," Rocco growled, raw emotion breaking through his usual barriers. His voice cracked as memories of his own family's losses surfaced. "After everything we did to get you out..."