Page 63 of The Assassin's Captive
"Lorenzo." He acknowledges me with a slight nod, then focuses entirely on her. "Serena Barone."
She doesn't respond immediately. Instead, she studies him the way she might examine evidence in a courtroom—methodically, searching for weaknesses. Her chin lifts slightly, but she keeps her expression neutral.
"Mr. Costa."
He moves to a small table near the window, where a crystal decanter has been prepared. Three glasses sit beside it, but he pours only two measures of whiskey. The liquid catches the light as he lifts one glass, swirling it gently.
"Sit." He gestures to one of the chairs.
Serena crosses the room without hurrying and settles into the chair with fluid grace, her spine straight, hands folded in her lap, every movement controlled.
Emilio takes the chair across from her, leaving me standing near the door. The arrangement feels intentional—an interview, not a family reunion. He sips his whiskey, studying her over the rim of the glass.
"You've built quite a career for yourself," he says finally. "Criminal prosecution. High-profile cases. I'm told you specialize in corruption within the judicial system."
"I prosecute criminals. The system they operate within is irrelevant to me."
"Is it?" He sets his glass on the small table between them. "Tell me about the Bianchi case. The one that made your reputation."
Serena's expression doesn't change, but I catch the slight tightening around her eyes. The Bianchi case had taken down three judges and a dozen court clerks in a money-laundering scheme. It had also put her on the radar of every criminal organization in Rome.
"I followed the evidence. The evidence led to convictions."
"Twelve convictions. Including Judge Marchetti himself." Emilio leans back in his chair. "That takes skill. And patience. How long did you spend building that case?"
"Eighteen months."
"And during those eighteen months, how many people did you trust with sensitive information?"
I watch Serena weigh the question, recognizing the trap hidden within it. Emilio isn't asking about her methods—he's mapping her network, identifying potential leaks.
"My team was small. Three investigators, one paralegal, and my immediate supervisor."
"Names?"
"Antonio Ricci supervised the case. Marco Tessari handled document analysis. Elena Conti and Francesco Moretti conducted interviews."
Emilio nods as if filing away each name for future reference. "And the paralegal?"
"Sofia Amadeo."
"You trust these people?"
Serena's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "They're professionals. They did their jobs."
"That's not what I asked."
The air in the room grows thicker, charged with unspoken threat. Serena meets Emilio's gaze without wavering, but I see the calculation behind her eyes—the lawyer's mind working through implications and possibilities.
"Trust is earned through consistent action over time. I trusted them with the case. Whether I trust them with my life is a different question entirely."
Emilio's mouth curves in what might be approval. "Good answer. Now tell me about your current caseload."
"I'm not currently assigned to any active cases."
"Because of your forced absence." He pauses, letting the words hang between them. "But before that. What were you working on?"
Serena glances at me briefly, then back to Emilio. "I was reviewing evidence in the Santangelo investigation. Financial crimes. Corporate fraud."
