The first scream ripped through the Rossi mansion so violently that I dropped the towel in my hands.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis.

"Fourteen months?" I gasped, my back hitting the edge of the desk. "You knew who I was for fourteen months?"

"My security team is expensive, Evelyn," Victor said, stepping slowly into the room. He used my real name with a strange, smooth familiarity that sent a shiver straight down my spine. "When a woman with clean hands and a fake social security card shows up applying for a nanny position at my estate three weeks after a federal indictment drops in New York, I don't just check her references. I buy her file from the prosecutor's office."

"Then why didn't you turn me in?" I demanded, my hands gripping the edge of the mahogany desk so hard my knuckles turned white. "The federal reward for my testimony was two hundred thousand dollars! Why let a fugitive stay in your house with your son?"

Victor stopped three feet from me. He set his glass of bourbon down on the corner of the desk with a soft, clean clink.

"Because the Moretti family built the Vance Clinical Institute," Victor said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying tone. "The same Moretti family that put two pounds of C4 under my wife’s Mercedes three years ago."

I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

"You... you knew they funded the research?"

"I knew they were using the clinic to launder drug money and test chemical compounds," Victor said, leaning down until his face was inches from mine. "And I knew that the brilliant young resident who blew the whistle on them was the only person in the country who had the private encryption keys to their offshore accounts."

A cold, sickening horror bloomed in the pit of my stomach.

"You didn't hire me to take care of Finn," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow to the chest. "You hired me because I was collateral."

Victor didn't deny it. He didn't blink. He stood there, broad-shouldered and unyielding, staring down at me with cold, calculation-filled eyes.

"In the beginning?" Victor admitted smoothly. "Yes. You were a leverage point. If Moretti moved against my docks, I was going to hand your encrypted files to the Organized Crime Division and wipe his entire executive board off the map."

"You monster," I spat, tears of pure rage finally spilling over my lower eyelids. "You dragged me into your war!"

"You were already in the war, Evelyn!" Victor snapped, his hand coming down flat on the red folder between us. "The moment you signed those trial papers at Vance, Moretti put a price on your head! If you hadn't come to this house, his men would have found you in that cellar in South Boston within six weeks and put a bullet in the back of your skull!"

"I was trying to save those children!"

"And I was trying to keep my son alive!" Victor shouted back, his face flushing red with a sudden, violent intensity. "So don't stand there and play the moral martyr with me! You used my estate as a shield just like I used your file as armor!"

The silence returned, heavy, suffocating, and vibrating with fourteen months of unspoken lies.

I stood there, wiping the wet streaks from my cheeks with the palm of my hand, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"And now?" I asked, my voice cracking on the second word. "What happens now that you’ve used me to stop Finn’s seizures? What happens now that the federal task force is outside?"

Victor looked down at the red file. His expression softened slightly, the cold, predatory sharpness in his grey eyes giving way to something far more complex—something dark, heavy, and deeply exhausted.

"Three hours ago, Marcus Moretti signed a cooperation agreement with the US Attorney," Victor said softly. "His men are surrounding the south perimeter of this property right now. They aren't looking for me, Evelyn. They’re looking for you."

My stomach dropped into an endless abyss.

"They know I'm here?"

"They know Dr. Evelyn Reed is inside this house," Victor said, reaching into his inner coat pocket and pulling out a small, dark velvet box. "And by six o'clock tomorrow morning, they will have a federal warrant to breach these gates."

He set the velvet box on top of the red file.

"What is that?" I whispered.