Chapter 7 - The Edge of the Blade
The fire crackled sharply in the stone hearth, popping a shower of orange sparks against the iron grate.
Ava sat frozen in the deep leather armchair, her brain racing through high-stress evasion protocols at lightspeed. A single wrong answer, a visible twitch in her eye, or a tremor in her breathing would result in Frank stepping through that heavy oak door to drag her into the basement beneath the stables.
She didn't panic. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees, dropping her head into her hands with a long, trembling exhale that looked completely, authentically human.
When she raised her head, her eyes were filled with unshed tears, her lower lip quivering slightly—a performance crafted to play directly into Dominic’s deep-seated understanding of desperate people.
"I lied about Queens, Mr. Russo," Ava whispered, her voice cracking with raw, unpolished emotion. "And I lied about my brother's name."
Dominic did not move a muscle. "Explain."
"My real name is Ava Vance," she gasped, using her real surname to anchor the lie in verifiable truth if his team dug deeper. "My brother's name isn't Collins. It's Marcus. He isn't on a farm in Ithaca. He's in a state psychiatric facility in Pennsylvania, suffering from severe developmental trauma."
She wiped a tear aggressively from her cheek with the back of her hand, making her posture look small, cornered, and terrified.
"I lied because every high-end staffing agency in New York rejects applicants who have family members in state institutions," Ava said, her words rushing out in a desperate, breathless torrent. "They want clean, upper-middle-class girls with perfect backgrounds to serve rich people's children. If I told Gerald the truth about my brother, he would have thrown my resume in the trash! I needed the three thousand dollars a week, Mr. Russo! I need it to pay for Marcus's private care so the state doesn't transfer him to an overflow ward!"
Dominic watched her intensely. He did not speak for fifteen agonizing seconds. He reached out, his long fingers tracing the edge of the white paper folder on his desk.
"A state facility in Pennsylvania," Dominic repeated softly.
"St. Jude’s in Scranton," Ava added instantly, providing a real, operating facility she had memorized during her background research. "Check it. Call them right now. He’s in Ward 4."
Dominic leaned back in his high chair, his dark eyes never leaving her face. The terrifying, murderous aura surrounding him did not vanish completely, but the immediate threat of violence receded like a retreating wave.
"You should have told me the truth," Dominic said flatly. "I do not tolerate lies in this house, Ava. Not about your name, not about your family."
"I was afraid, sir," Ava whispered, lowering her eyes to the Persian rug. "Everyone in this city knows who you are. I thought if you found out my family was broken, you wouldn't trust me near Eli."
Dominic looked at her for a long, silent moment. He raised his hand, gesturing toward the door.
"Go back to your room, Miss Collins," Dominic ordered quietly. "My men will verify the facility in Scranton tonight. If your story holds, you will remain here. If it does not... we will not have another conversation."
Ava stood up slowly, her knees feeling weak, but her composure completely restored. She bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you, Mr. Russo. Good night."
She turned and walked calmly out of the study, passing Frank, who locked the heavy mahogany doors behind her.
As she walked up the quiet staircase to the third floor, her hands began to shake violently. She had survived the interrogation, but her time was running out rapidly. The FBI surveillance team would not be able to cover her lie about the Pennsylvania facility forever; the Bureau’s cover-identities division would need to build a fake patient file in St. Jude’s system before sunrise.
She entered her bedroom, quietly locked the hallway door, and stepped into Eli’s room.
The boy was awake.
He was sitting up in his canopy bed, his small hands clutching his knees, his eyes wide with anxiety in the blue glow of the nightlight. He had felt the heavy footsteps in the hallway, sensed the sudden spike of tension in the house.
When he saw Ava step through the door, his entire posture collapsed in relief.
He raised his small hands into the air, signing rapidly, his movements filled with an intense, desperate need for comfort.
Did you go away?
Ava walked across the dark room, sitting gently on the edge of his mattress. She took his trembling hands in hers, wrapping her fingers around his.
I am here, Eli, she signed softly with one hand. I am right here. I am not going anywhere.
Eli leaned forward, pressing his small forehead against her shoulder, his little arms wrapping tightly around her waist.
May you like
Ava held the motherless boy in the quiet darkness, her chin resting on his soft hair, her heart breaking in two distinct directions.
She was an officer of the law, sworn to bring down the Russo empire. But in this quiet room, surrounded by cold stone and armed guards, she was the only human being protecting an innocent child from a dark, violent world he had done nothing to deserve.
