Chapter 101 -
The door clicked shut behind Micheal. The sound was small, but it settled heavily in the room. Nia stood where he had left her, his words still suspended in the air like dust caught in light.
She waited for tears, but they did not come. Instead, something burned red hot inside her.
Anger.
It moved through her body, steadying her hands. She walked to the door and pulled it open.
Matteo stood there, as if he had not yet gone far. Surprise flickered across his face. “Miss Wallace? Everything alright?”
“No,” she said calmly. “I need paper. As many sheets as you can find. And a pen.”
He blinked. “Paper?”
“Yes. Can you get it?”
“I can. But what is it for?”
Nia held his gaze. “Just do as I say.”
Matteo studied her, the way men in this house always studied before deciding whether to obey. Something in her face must have convinced him.
“I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared down the corridor. Nia remained in the doorway, breathing in air that felt newly claimed. When he returned, he carried a thick stack of paper and a pen.
“Rosa will bring dinner in an hour,” he said. “Will you eat this time?”
“Yes. I’ll eat.”
She closed the door and went to the small desk by the window. She clicked the pen open. For a moment, she stared at the blank page. Then she began.
Alex Navarro.
She wrote his name carefully at the top. Beneath it, she listed what she had once called ordinary.
Favorite food: lasagna. Never met his family.
Friends: None he introduced me to. Always an excuse.
Work: Logistics. Vague. Changed locations twice.
Phone: Always face down. Always on silent.
On the second page, she wrote about the night he left, about Jordan, and whatever else she found important.
By the time she finished, dawn had begun to thin the darkness. Seven pages lay across the desk, crowded with her handwriting.
Nia leaned back. Her body ached with exhaustion, but her mind felt orderly for the first time in months. Memory which once an enemy, had become a weapon.
She gathered the pages into a neat stack. Tomorrow, she would decide their purpose. She lay down and closed her eyes.
Morning came a bit quickly. The door opened, and Rosa’s sharp intake of breath cut through her sleep.
“Dios mío.” Rosa stepped inside with a breakfast tray and stared at the desk. “What is all this?”
Nia sat up. “Information.”
“Information about what?”
“About Alex. About Jordan. About everything I pretended not to remember.” She crossed to the desk and lifted the stack. “I need you to do something for me.”
Rosa’s expression shifted from surprise to attention. “What do you want me to do?”
“Give this to Leo. Not Matteo or anyone else. Do it yourself.”
Rosa took the pages carefully. Her eyes scanned the first lines. When she looked up, her gaze had sharpened.
“You are sure?”
“I am sure of nothing,” Nia replied. “But I am done sitting in this room waiting for someone else to fix my life. If I have something that can help, I will give it. What he does with it is his decision.”
Rosa was quiet for a long moment. Then she nodded. “It is about time.”
She tucked the papers into her apron pocket and turned to leave. At the door, she paused.
“He does not sleep either, not since the deadline was set. He works through the night, searching for answers.” She glanced back at Nia. “Maybe this will help.”
When the door closed, Nia stood very still.
She ate, showered, and dressed in clean clothes. She sat by the window and watched guards patrol the estate grounds. Waiting was its own discipline.
The knock came in the afternoon.
Matteo stood outside, something unsettled in his eyes. “The boss wants to see you in his study now.”
Her heart struck once, hard. “What does he want?”
“That he didn't mention.”
She thought of Rosa walking through the mansion, of Leo reading her words, and of the last time she had stood in his study… the kiss, the refusal, the distance he had forced between them.
She wasn't sure she was still the same woman now.
“Let’s go,” she said.
They walked past the portraits, the long dining table, and the library where she had hidden from herself. Matteo stopped at the study doors and knocked.
“Come in,” Leo called.
Matteo opened the door and stepped aside.
Leo stood behind his desk. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened, and his sleeves rolled up. Her pages lay before him, crowded now with his own notes in the margins.
He looked up.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then he stood. “Close the door,” he told Matteo. “No interruptions.”
The door shut.
“Sit,” he said.
“I would rather stand.”
“Sit, Nia.”
She sat.
He picked up the top page. “Where did this come from?”
“My memory.”
“All of it?”
“All of it. Every detail I ignored because I wanted to believe he loved me.”
Leo set the page down carefully. His jaw tightened.
“This changes things.”
“Good or bad?”
“Good.” He paused. “Some of these details match intel we could not confirm before. The tattoo, the watch, the way Jordan moves...”
Relief loosened something inside her. “So it helped?”
He held her gaze. Something unreadable passed through his eyes.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “It helped… greatly.”
Silence settled for a while before Leo broke it.
“I did not call you here only for that,” he said.
Her pulse quickened. “Then why?”
“I owe you an apology.” His voice was rough. “For that night. For what I said. For pushing you away. I was wrong.”
She stared at him. Leonardo DeSanto did not apologize. Not to enemies or even allies.
“Wrong how?” she asked.
“I thought distance would protect you. It did not. It only hurt you.”
Before she could answer, the door burst open.
Christian stood there, breathing unevenly. “We have a problem. Santiago just left the estate armed. No one knows where he is going.”
Leo was already moving. “How long?”
“Ten minutes. We lost his signal near the docks.”
Leo grabbed his jacket, checked his weapon. For a fraction of a second, he looked at Nia. Fear flickered on her face.
“Stay here,” he said. “Lock the door. Open it only for me or Rosa.”
She rose. “Leo…”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He held her gaze one heartbeat longer, as if memorising her. Then he was gone.
The engines outside roared to life. Some men shouted as cars sped down the driveway.
Nia walked to the window and watched the red taillights disappear into gathering night. She pressed her palm against the cold glass… and waited.