A Will Written In Blood

THE SHOT

CHAPTER 3

THE SHOT

The emergency lights came on, bathing the corridor in a dim red glow. Valerio was already moving. Mara followed because the alternative was standing still while armed men searched the building. Another shot cracked through the corridor. Valerio caught her arm and pulled her behind a stone column. Mara immediately twisted free. “Don't touch me.” “You're welcome.” “I didn't ask.” His eyes narrowed. “You're difficult.” “So I've been told.”

He looked at her weapon, then back at her face. “Who sent you?” Mara kept her expression blank. “I don't discuss employers.” “Then discuss your father.” The words landed differently. Her fingers tightened around the weapon. “You knew him.” “I knew of him.” “That's not an answer.” “No. But it's enough to know he didn't deserve what happened to him.”

Mara stared at him. “What do you know?” Valerio took a slow breath. “The same thing you were never told. Your father wasn't the traitor.” Her heart seemed to miss a beat. “How do you know?” “Because my father trusted yours.”

Before she could respond, another shot struck the wall beside them. Valerio drew his weapon. Mara moved in the opposite direction, then found herself reaching the same doorway as him. He glanced at her. “You're following me.” “You're in my way.” “You're impossible.” “And you're distracting.” The words escaped before she could stop them. His eyebrow lifted. “I didn't say anything.” Mara looked away. “You were about to.”

They waited. A man appeared at the end of the hall. Mara recognized him immediately. One of hers. Her stomach dropped. “You were supposed to finish the job,” he said. Mara raised her weapon. “Who sent you?” He smiled. “Does it matter?” The answer sounded too familiar. Mara moved first, and the man disappeared behind the corner.

Valerio looked at her. “Your people?” “Yes.” “And they're trying to kill you.” “Apparently.” He studied her for a long moment. “Then you're not leaving this building alone.” Mara's eyes narrowed. “I don't need protection.” “I didn't offer protection.” “Then what?” “An explanation.”

He led her toward his private office. On his desk lay an old photograph. Mara stopped when she saw it. Her father stood beside a younger Valerio. They were both smiling, and neither looked like an enemy. Mara reached for the photograph. “Where did you get this?” “My father's private archive.” “Why keep it?” “Because the night this photograph was taken, my family was still alive.”

Mara's throat tightened. “What happened?” Valerio's expression hardened. “Someone betrayed us.” “Who?” “Your father was blamed.” “He didn't do it.” Valerio watched her carefully. “You sound certain.” “Because he wasn't a traitor.” For the first time, something almost like respect crossed his face. “Then perhaps we were both lied to.”

Mara looked at the photograph again. Somewhere between the fear, the anger and the questions, she became aware of how close he was standing. His voice had dropped. “You should leave tonight.” She looked up. “Are you afraid of me?” His gaze lingered on hers. “I'm beginning to think I should be.”

The moment lasted only a heartbeat. Then a phone rang, and the spell broke. Mara stepped away. Valerio answered. “We have another problem.” His eyes met hers. “Someone has been accessing my private records.”

Later, while the security team searched the estate, Mara found herself replaying the brief moment when Valerio had looked at her. It wasn't the look of a man admiring a stranger. It was the look of a man who had recognized a danger and was fascinated by it anyway. She didn't know which part unsettled her more.

Valerio was thinking about her too. He stood alone in the office, staring at the photograph of her father and the woman Mara had become. She was younger than him by twelve years, but the difference wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was that, for the first time in years, he had met someone who could make him forget the walls he'd built around himself.

Mara followed Valerio into the office, but she kept enough distance to remind herself that they were not allies. Not yet. He opened a cabinet and removed another folder. “Your father and mine were planning something before they died.” “What?” “A way out.” She frowned. “Out of what?” Valerio looked toward the rain-streaked window. “The organization.”

That answer changed the shape of everything. Mara had spent years believing her father had been proud of the world he belonged to. If he had been trying to leave it, then perhaps the woman she thought she knew had been built on a lie. She looked at Valerio again. For the first time, she didn't see only the man she had been ordered to kill. She saw another person carrying a version of the same wound.