Chapter 22 The Gift and The Wire
The rest of the day unfolded in careful neutrality.
Liam vanished into his study, doors closed, voice low as he made call after call—handling whatever chain reaction that conversation with the cartel had set off. Alessia stayed in her room, physically still but mentally unraveling, the words replaying over and over like a warning she couldn’t silence.
The collateral is not up for discussion.
What collateral?
Money was obvious. Territory, possible. But cartel deals rarely stopped there.
Something worse tightened in her chest.
She needed to know. Needed answers. But pushing Liam now—after the fragile truce they’d just built—would only raise alarms. Would make him shut her out completely.
So she forced herself to breathe.
To wait.
To plan.
Like the spy you are, a voice whispered, sharp and unforgiving.
Alessia shut her eyes, a familiar wave of disgust washing through her.
Last night, she’d been honest. Human. Vulnerable.
This morning, she was back in her skin like armor—lying by omission, calculating every move.
A knock sounded at her door, sudden and sharp.
“Yes?” Her voice came out steadier than she felt.
“Package for you,” Liam called through the wood. “Delivered to the front desk.”
Her heart skipped, hard enough to hurt.
She hadn’t ordered anything.
She opened the door. Liam stood there holding an elegantly wrapped box, about the size of a shoebox, tied with a cream ribbon. It looked expensive. Thoughtful.
“What’s it from?” she asked, keeping her face neutral.
“Card says it’s from your Aunt Maria. Wedding gift.” He handed it over. “Security scanned it. It’s clean.”
Her fingers closed around the box, her grip calm even as her pulse spiked.
She didn’t have an Aunt Maria.
Which meant it was Thorne.
“Thank you,” she said.
Liam nodded, already stepping back. “I’ll be in my study.”
The door shut behind him.
Alessia stood there for a long second, the box heavy in her hands, staring at it like it might detonate.
Slowly, she carried it to her bed and set it down.
The ribbon came undone easily. The lid lifted without resistance.
Inside sat an antique music box—porcelain, delicate, hand-painted roses winding across its surface. Beautiful. Innocent. Exactly the kind of gift a wealthy relative might send.
She wound the key.
The mechanism clicked, and a soft classical melody filled the room—gentle, haunting, almost sad.
As the tune played, she turned the box over, eyes narrowing.
There.
A hairline seam along the base. Nearly invisible.
She pressed.
The compartment opened with a quiet snap.
Inside lay a small handwritten card and a coil of something thin and translucent.
Fiberoptic wire.
Advanced. Near-invisible. Capable of transmitting audio and visual data through walls, safes, encrypted systems.
Capable of accessing everything.
Liam’s computers. His safe. His secrets.
Her stomach twisted.
She unfolded the card. Thorne’s handwriting stared back at her, unmistakable.
Time for the ledger. And everything else.
You have 48 hours.
No more delays. No more excuses.
\- Your loving aunt
Her hands shook.
She’d already photographed the ledger. That part was done, the evidence hidden away.
But Thorne wasn’t satisfied.
He wanted it all.
Financial trails. Communications. Client networks. Proof enough to dismantle the O’Sullivans completely—and drag the Scarpettis down with them if necessary.
Proof that would put Liam away for life.
Her chest tightened.
She thought of the night before. Of the way Liam’s voice had softened when he spoke about his brother. Of the exhaustion behind his strength.
She thought of the morning. Of their agreement. Their fragile, honest partnership.
Partners.
Alessia closed her eyes as the music continued to play.
She should do it. Should finish what she’d started.
Should complete the mission she’d spent years training for.
But the idea of betraying him now—now, after everything—made her nauseous.
What’s wrong with you? she scolded herself. He’s a criminal. He works with cartels. He’s part of the world that protected your father. That killed your mother.
He’s the enemy.
But he didn’t feel like one.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
A sharp knock cut through the music.
“Alessia! Are you in there?”
Siobhan’s voice—bright, cheerful, completely out of place.
Alessia snapped the compartment shut, shoved the music box and card into her nightstand drawer, and closed it quickly.
She opened the door.
Siobhan stood there, radiating energy, her red curls wild, her smile wide and infectious.
“What are you doing here?” Alessia asked.
“Surprising you!” Siobhan beamed, breezing past her. “I texted Liam, but he’s ignoring me, so I figured I’d just show up.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s amazing.” Siobhan spun on her heel. “I have the best idea. Double date. Tomorrow night.”
Alessia blinked. “Double date?”
“Yes! You, Liam, me, and my boyfriend James. Dinner. Drinks. Dancing. Normal people stuff.”
“Boyfriend?”
“James Song,” Siobhan said proudly. “Three months. It’s serious. I want you both to meet him.”
“Siobhan, I don’t think—”
“Please.” Her smile softened. “I need this. Just one night where we’re not surrounded by violence and family politics. I want to pretend I’m normal.”
Sister-in-law.
The word echoed painfully.
Because on paper, she was.
“I don’t know if Liam will agree,” Alessia said.
“He will if you ask.” Siobhan grabbed her hands.
“Please.”
Alessia looked at her—this bright, genuine person who trusted her completely.
The friend she was going to destroy.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll talk to him.”
Siobhan squealed and hugged her tightly. “Tomorrow. Seven. Italian place in the West Village.”
“Italian?”
“Perfect, right?” Siobhan laughed. “No guards. No drama.”
No guns, Alessia thought. Just lies.
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
When Siobhan left, the room felt heavier.
Alessia sank onto the bed, staring at the nightstand.
The wire.
The music box.
Forty-eight hours.
Forty-eight hours to betray the man she’d kissed. Trusted. Let see her.
Forty-eight hours to decide who she really was.
She wound the music box again.
The melody filled the room—beautiful, delicate, deceptive.
Just like her.
And for the first time, Alessia wasn’t sure if there was any version of this that ended without her losing herself completely.