Chapter 3 - The Restorer's Game
The room felt entirely devoid of oxygen.
My shop on Atlantic Avenue wasn't just my livelihood; it was the home where I had raised Emma, where my father had taught me how to sand mahogany, where every piece of furniture had a story. But more than that, my apartment above the shop housed three neighboring families who had rented from me for years.
"They're going to burn the building," I whispered, horror rising in my chest. "With the tenants inside."
"No," Alessandro said, stepping close to me. He took my hands in his, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around mine. "They want a reaction, Clara. Nikolai Volkov is trying to force me to play his game on his terms. He thinks I will panic because I finally have something to protect."
"Then what do we do?" I demanded, searching his face. "You can't give them Emma!"
"Never," Alessandro snapped, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, predatory fire. "I would tear this city apart with my bare hands before I let a single thread on her dress be touched. But we aren't going to hide down here like cornered animals either."
"What are you thinking?"
Alessandro looked over at the surveillance monitors displaying the map of the Brooklyn waterfront. "Volkov thinks you are a helpless civilian. He thinks you're just an ordinary woman who stumbled into my world by accident. He doesn't know that you notice things that everyone else misses."
I blinked, taking a deep breath. "The ring. The vendor badge."
"Exactly," Alessandro said, a cold, slow smile touching the edge of his lips. "When that spy was in the ballroom, you didn't scream. You didn't run. You analyzed him, photographed his credentials, noticed his ring, and secured the evidence in a cloud folder named after a button. You have the eyes of a detective, Clara."
He turned to the main console and pressed a red button. "Marco. Prepare the armored convoy. We aren't going to the piers to surrender."
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"What are we doing then, boss?" Marco asked over the comms.
"We are setting a trap," Alessandro said coldly. "And we are using Nikolai Volkov's own arrogance to spring it."
