Chapter 3 - The Father Who Never Died

They did not go to Emma’s apartment.

That option died with her old name.

Luca moved them to a private medical floor above one of his legitimate clinics.

Marco controlled the elevators.

No phones except secured lines.

No staff without clearance.

Belini complained once.

Luca ignored her.

Emma sat by the window with the death certificate on her lap.

Luca’s shoulder had been cleaned and bandaged.

He should have been resting.

He stood instead.

“You said your father died seven years ago.”

Emma looked at the paper.

“I was told he did.”

“By whom?”

“My handler.”

Belini frowned.

“Handler?”

Emma exhaled.

There was no point hiding it now.

“I worked financial intelligence.”

Luca watched carefully.

“Government?”

“Contracted task force.”

“Law enforcement?”

“Sometimes.”

“That means no.”

Emma almost smiled.

“It means paperwork was complicated.”

Belini folded her arms.

“And shooting?”

“Also complicated.”

Luca looked toward Marco.

“That explains the restaurant.”

Emma continued.

“My job was money. Shell companies. offshore transfers. hidden ownership. I followed numbers until they reached people who believed numbers could not speak.”

“Victor?”

“No.”

“Sebastian?”

“No.”

Luca’s gaze sharpened.

“Who?”

Emma looked toward the door.

“A man named Adrian Vale.”

Belini went still.

Luca noticed.

“You know him.”

Belini hesitated.

“Everyone in our circle knows the name.”

Emma did not.

Not anymore.

Three years ago, Adrian Vale had owned shipping brokers, casinos, private security firms, and half a dozen companies that existed only on paper.

Emma had followed one transfer too far.

Then another.

Then she found a ledger linking Vale to politicians, contractors, and organized crime groups across three states.

Her father had helped her.

Daniel Evans had been an accountant before retirement.

Quiet.

Brilliant.

Invisible.

“He found a duplicate routing pattern I missed,” Emma said.

Luca leaned against the desk.

“And then he died.”

“That was what they told me.”

“Then you?”

“Two weeks later, someone hit my car.”

Belini’s face changed.

“The fire.”

Emma looked at her.

“There was no fire.”

“What?”

“My car went through a barrier. I got out before it burned.”

Luca’s eyes narrowed.

“Who filed the death certificate?”

“I don’t know.”

Marco entered.

“We checked.”

He placed a folder on the table.

“The physician’s signature was real. The physician died eighteen months later.”

Emma opened the file.

A photograph.

Dr. Samuel Voss.

She knew the face.

Her old handler had introduced them once.

Luca watched her reaction.

“You know him.”

“He certified identities for protected witnesses.”

Silence.

Belini understood first.

“They didn’t declare you dead because they thought you died.”

Emma nodded.

“They declared me dead because they wanted me gone.”

Luca’s voice became quieter.

“Protected?”

“Maybe.”

“Or erased.”

Emma looked at him.

“Yes.”

Marco placed another page down.

“Daniel Evans.”

Emma’s father.

A current photograph.

Older.

Thinner.

Alive.

Her vision blurred.

She hated that.

Luca noticed and looked away.

A small mercy.

“Where is he?”

Marco answered.

“Unknown. Photo was taken six months ago.”

“By whom?”

“The same private network that came to the alley.”

Emma stood.

“I want their leader.”

Marco shook his head.

“They left before police arrived.”

“Find them.”

Luca looked at her.

She stopped.

He lifted one eyebrow.

Emma almost laughed.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No.”

For the first time since the restaurant, the tension shifted.

Then Marco’s phone buzzed.

He read the message.

“Boss.”

“What?”

“The men sent coordinates.”

Emma’s pulse jumped.

“For what?”

Marco looked at her.

“A meeting.”

Luca said, “No.”

Emma turned.

“You do not get to say no.”

“I do in my clinic.”

“This is my father.”

“And Victor is still trying to kill me.”

“Then stay here.”

Luca almost smiled.

“Absolutely not.”

Belini looked between them.

“You are both exhausting.”

Emma ignored her.

Marco continued.

“There’s more.”

He turned the screen.

One line.

BRING THE RECEIVER WATCH.

Emma looked at Belini.

Belini looked at her wrist.

The watch was still in Marco’s evidence bag.

Luca’s expression hardened.

The people looking for Emma were not asking for money.

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They wanted Victor’s device.

Which meant the watch held more than coordinates.