I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows.
For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then it all came rushing back. The escape. Alberto. The safehouse.
I was free.
I sat up slowly, my body aching from weeks of sleeping on concrete. The bed was soft, almost too soft. I'd grown accustomed to pain.
The clothes Alberto had mentioned were laid out on a chair. Black jeans, a soft gray sweater, underwear still in packaging. He'd thought of everything.
I showered, letting hot water wash away weeks of basement grime. When I emerged, I found Alberto in the kitchen, two coffee cups on the counter.
"You look better," he said, sliding one toward me.
"I feel human again." I wrapped my hands around the warm cup. "What now?"
"Now we plan." He pulled out a laptop and opened it. "I've set up your dead man's switch. Every twenty-four hours, you'll need to enter a code. If you don't, everything gets released."
"To who?"
"FBI. Every major news outlet. And every family that has ever wanted Tyron dead." Alberto's smile was cold. "Which is most of them."
He pulled up the photographs I'd taken in Tyron's study. "This is good. Very good. But we need more."
"What more could you possibly need? That's enough to put him away for life."
"I don't want him in prison, Morry. I want him destroyed. Completely. His reputation, his empire, his legacy. Everything."
Alberto's eyes met mine, and I saw the same burning need for revenge that consumed me.
"Then what do we need?" I asked.
"Witnesses. People who've been hurt by him who are willing to talk. And we need to turn his allies against him."
"His allies are loyal."
"Everyone has a price." Alberto pulled up a file on his screen. "Including Hixia Moose."
I leaned closer. It was a dossier on Hixia. Photographs, financial records, even text messages.
"You've been watching her?"
"I've been watching everyone close to Tyron for years. Waiting for an opportunity." He scrolled through the documents. "Hixia has been embezzling from Tyron's accounts for eighteen months. Small amounts, cleverly hidden. But I found them."
"Does Tyron know?"
"Not yet. But he will. When we're ready."
I studied the evidence, my mind racing. "If we expose her theft, Tyron will kill her."
"Yes."
"Good," I said coldly.
Alberto looked at me with something like respect. "You've changed."
"I've evolved." I took a sip of coffee. "What else do you have?"
He pulled up another file. "Marcus Delroy. Tyron's second-in-command. He's been skimming profits from the drug operations. And he's sleeping with Tyron's cousin."
"The married cousin?"
"The very married, very Catholic cousin whose husband is Tyron's weapons supplier."
I smiled despite myself. "That's messy."
"It gets better. The husband found out last week. He's already looking for revenge."
"How do you know all this?"
Alberto leaned back in his chair. "I have people everywhere, Morry. In Tyron's organization, in his home, even in his bed."
Something twisted in my chest. "In his bed?"
"Not literally." Alberto's expression softened slightly. "I mean Hixia. She's been feeding me information for months. She thinks I'm going to help her take over once Tyron falls."
"And are you?"
"No. She's going down with him."
I nodded slowly. "So we use the information to fracture his organization from within."
"Exactly. We expose Marcus to the weapons supplier. We expose Hixia's theft. We turn everyone against each other. And while they're fighting amongst themselves, we release the evidence to the authorities."
"Tyron will suspect you immediately."
"Let him suspect. By the time he figures out what's happening, it'll be too late."
Alberto closed the laptop and looked at me. "But there's one problem."
"What?"
"You're pregnant with his child. Once this goes public, you'll be a target. Every enemy Tyron has will want leverage over him, and you're carrying his heir."
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach. "I can protect myself."
"Can you?" Alberto's voice was gentle but firm. "Morry, you're six weeks pregnant, malnourished, and you've been through hell. You need to think about the baby."
"I am thinking about the baby," I said sharply. "That's why I'm doing this. I won't let my child grow up with a monster for a father."
"Then let me help you. Really help you." Alberto reached across the table and took my hand. "Stay here. Let me handle the dangerous parts. You can coordinate, plan, but you don't need to be on the front lines."
"I need to see his face when he falls."
"And you will. I promise you that." His thumb brushed across my knuckles. "But I need you alive to see it."
The touch sent unexpected warmth through me. I pulled my hand back, confused by my own reaction.
"I should check in," I said, changing the subject. "Mrs. Chen will be worried."
"Already done. I sent word that you're safe."
"And Tyron? What does he think happened?"
Alberto's smile turned dangerous. "He thinks you ran to me for protection. That you're my prisoner now. He's already planning a rescue operation."
"A rescue?"
"He wants his wife back. Or rather, he wants to kill you himself for the embarrassment you've caused him."
The words should have frightened me. Instead, I felt nothing but cold determination.
"Let him come," I said. "Let him try."
Alberto studied me for a long moment. "You really have changed, haven't you?"
"I've stopped pretending to be weak." I met his eyes. "And I've started becoming exactly what they feared I could be."
"What's that?"
"Dangerous."
Something shifted in Alberto's expression. Not fear, but interest. Maybe even admiration.
"Good," he said softly. "Because we're going to need dangerous."
He stood and extended his hand. "Come on. I want to show you something."
I took his hand and let him lead me to a locked door at the end of the hallway.
Inside was a war room.
Maps of Tyron's territory covered one wall. Photographs of his associates covered another. A third wall was filled with evidence, strings connecting different pieces like a spider's web.
"This," Alberto said, gesturing to the room, "is five years of planning. Five years of waiting for the right moment to strike."
I walked slowly around the room, taking it all in. "You've been planning this since your sister died."
"Yes."
"And I'm just a convenient tool."
"No." Alberto's voice was firm. He walked over to me and turned me to face him. "You're not a tool. You're a partner. Someone who wants what I want."
"Revenge."
"Justice," he corrected. "There's a difference."
"Not to me."
Alberto smiled. "Then we understand each other perfectly."
Our eyes locked, and for a moment, something passed between us. Understanding. Recognition. Two broken people united by a common enemy.
"We start tomorrow," Alberto said. "Are you ready?"
I looked at the wall of evidence, at the careful planning, at five years of patience and rage crystallized into action.
"I've been ready since the moment they betrayed me."
"Good." Alberto released me and walked to the door. "Then let's burn their world down."
