"Don't open that file."
I froze, the security file still open in my hands, and turned slowly. Marco stood in the doorway of the small study I'd claimed as my own, his expression stripped of the easy warmth I'd grown used to.
I closed the file instinctively. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough."
Something in his tone made my skin prickle. Marco had been one of the few people in this house I'd let myself trust without reservation. The way he looked at the file now, wary, almost afraid, told me this wasn't an ordinary security document.
"What do you know about this?" I asked, holding it up.
"De Luca security records are heavily restricted," he said, crossing the room. "Some files aren't accessible even to senior members of the organization."
"Then how did this end up
