Chapter 7 - The Secret in the Blood
The storm outside lashed against the broken skylight as Dmitri’s team swept the penthouse, dragging bodies away and securing the perimeter.
Inside Victor’s private medical suite down the hall, Lena sat on an examination table while Victor stood near the window, reviewing encrypted digital files that Dmitri had decrypted from the lead mercenary’s tactical tablet.
"Your father created Compound Seven," Victor said, his tone grim as he scrolled through lines of biochemical equations. "It was designed as a rapid neurological neutralizing agent. Completely undetectable in the bloodstream after two hours. It mimics sudden coronary failure."
Lena gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. "The almond scent."
"Cyanide was a cover," Victor said, looking up from the screen. "Leon used Compound Seven tonight. He altered it with bitter almond oil so that if an autopsy was performed, the coroner would immediately write it off as standard cyanide poisoning and look no further. But you knew the difference."
Lena’s mind raced through memories of her childhood—her father working late into the night, whispering about contracts he regretted ever signing.
"My father told me before he died," Lena whispered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "He said, *'Lena, if anything happens to me, look inside the leather binding of my mother’s Bible.'* I thought it was just grief. I never looked."
Victor stepped toward her, his presence dominating the sterile room. "Where is that Bible now?"
"In my apartment in Queens," Lena said. "In a storage box under my bed."
"Dmitri!" Victor barked.
"Already mobilizing a squad, Boss," Dmitri answered from the doorway.
"No," Lena interrupted, jumping down from the table. "My building has surveillance cameras installed by my landlord that link directly to a private cloud. If your men roll in with tactical gear and armored trucks, Clara’s lookouts will see them before you cross the bridge. I have to go in quietly."
Victor took two long strides, stopping inches from her face. His gaze was dangerously possessive. "You are not leaving this compound without me. You don't walk into enemy territory alone."
"I survived on those streets for six years while you ruled this city from a glass tower, Mr. Romano," Lena countered, refusing to back down. "I know how to disappear in Queens."
Victor stared at her, the intensity in the room climbing to a fever pitch. Slowly, a smirk broke across his lips.
"Then we go together," Victor decided. "No bodyguards. No convoy. Just you and me."
"Boss, that’s suicide!" Dmitri protested loudly. "Leon Mercer is hunting you. The entire Whitmore network is on high alert!"
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Victor turned his head, his cold glare silencing his lieutenant instantly.
"Leon Mercer thinks I'm pinned down defending my penthouse," Victor said with absolute authority. "He won't expect me to walk into an alley in Queens wearing jeans and a leather jacket. Prepare an unmarked sedan. We leave in ten minutes."
