Page 64 of The Assassin's Captive
"And?"
"The evidence suggested connections to organized crime. I was preparing recommendations for expanded investigation."
"Whose organized crime?"
He's baiting her, and it makes my gut twist. I know Emilio already has the answer—he wouldn't ask without knowing what he'd hear. But he wants to see how she responds, whether she'll lie or deflect.
"Multiple families. The evidence pointed to a network rather than a single organization."
"Including the Costas?"
Serena's hands remain steady in her lap, but I catch the slight increase in her breathing. "The investigation was preliminary. I hadn't reached conclusions about specific families."
"But you had suspicions."
"I had questions."
Emilio leans forward slightly, his pale eyes never leaving her face. "What questions?"
"About shell companies. About judges who consistently ruled in favor of certain defendants. About patterns in case assignments and evidence handling."
"And what answers did you find?"
"I found enough to know the corruption went deeper than individual judges. The system itself had been compromised."
Serena has essentially confirmed that she was building a case that could have destroyed half of Rome's criminal infrastructure—including Emilio's operations.
"You know what your blood means now," Emilio says, shifting the conversation without warning.
Serena's composure finally cracks, for a moment. Her breath catches, and her fingers tighten against each other. But she recovers quickly, her mask sliding back into place.
"I know what the DNA test revealed."
"And what does that mean to you?"
"It means my adoption records weren't as sealed as my parents believed. It means someone I never met left me a legacy I never asked for." She pauses, her voice growing steadier. "But it doesn't change who I am or what I believe."
"Doesn't it?" Emilio's voice carries an edge of amusement. "You're a Costa, Serena. That blood carries certain obligations."
"I didn't choose this family."
"None of us did. But we honor it nonetheless."
Serena's dark eyes flash with the first real emotion she's shown since entering the room. "Honor? You call what you do honorable?"
The temperature in the room drops ten degrees. I tense, ready to intervene if necessary, but Emilio simply raises his hand—a small gesture that somehow manages to be both dismissive and threatening.
"I call it necessary. Rome's legitimate authorities are either corrupt or ineffective. We provide structure. Order. Protection for those who can't protect themselves."
"You provide violence. Extortion. Fear."
"I provide stability in an unstable world." His voice remains calm, conversational. "But I'm not here to debate philosophy with you. I'm here to discuss your future."
"My future is my own."
"Is it?" Emilio reaches into his jacket and withdraws a photograph. He places it on the table between them, face up. "This was taken three weeks ago."
I can't see the image from where I stand, but I watch Serena's face go pale. Her lips part slightly, and her breathing becomes shallow.
