Chapter 164 – Her Cover Is Blowing

Chapter 164 – Her Cover Is Blowing

Fiorella’s POV

“They’re watching me,” I whispered.
The mirror didn’t answer, but I saw it in the reflection — two guards outside my door, pretending not to stare. 

Suzy sat up, blinking. “Mama, no one’s there.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped, pointing at the door. “They whisper. At night. You don’t hear it because you sleep like a baby.”

She frowned. 

“They’re watching us,” I said louder this time. “They’ll check the house at sunrise. If I don’t move now, it’s over.”

Suzy rubbed her eyes from the bed. “Mama, who?”

“Everyone,” I snapped. “Go back to sleep.”

She sat up, hugging her stuffed bear. “You didn’t sleep either.”

“Because I can’t,” I said, pacing again. My hands wouldn’t stay still. “Every step I take, someone’s following.”

“Maybe they just care,” she said softly.

I stopped. “No. They suspect.”

Her little face fell. “Did I do something?”

I turned too fast. “You? You opened your mouth about that other one last night. Remember?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You never mean to!” I hissed, then took a breath, trying to pull myself back. “You have to be smarter, Suzy. You understand? One wrong word and we’re dead.”

Suzy’s lip quivered. “I don’t like when you talk like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t love me.”

My chest tightened, but I forced my face to stay blank. “Love doesn’t keep you alive. Obedience does.”

“But I want you to be happy,” she whispered.

I laughed, low. “Happiness is for people who aren’t being hunted.”

She looked down at her bear. “You didn’t used to be mean.”

“And you didn’t used to talk so much,” I shot back.

The silence after that was heavy — even I didn’t like how it sounded.

“Are we gonna die?” she whispered.

“Not if you do what I say.”

She nodded fast. “Okay.”

I knelt in front of her. “You want to help Mama?”

“Yes.”

“Then you make them love you. Vittorio. Valentino. You smile. You talk. Don’t let that other kid—what’s his name? Papi?—take all the attention.”

She frowned. “He’s nice.”

“I don’t care. You do what I say.”

Her lips trembled. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” I stood, straightened my robe. “Now stay here. Don’t make noise.”

She clutched her bear. “Mama… you’re scaring me.”

“Then listen better.”

I turned away, looked out the window. Dawn wasn’t here yet, but the guards were still there. Talking low. Watching the door.

I needed to move before they reported anything.

The mission was simple: either split the twins or steal the map. I failed one. Now it’s the other.

The last thing the man told me before I came here echoed in my head.

“You fail, you and the girl vanish. Understand?”

I’d nodded then, pretending I wasn’t scared. Pretending I could play the De Lucas like cards.

Now I wasn’t so sure. Vittorio’s eyes saw too much. Valentino’s smiles felt like traps.

“They can’t find out who I am,” I whispered. “Not them. Not him.”

I pulled open my drawer, took out the small metal key I’d hidden under the lining of my dress. They had given me the key. Warned that it was a special tool that was very difficult to get.My hands shook as I slipped it into my pocket.

“Where are you going?” Suzy asked again.

“To fix our mess,” I said. “Stay here. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

She sniffled. “Not even for Uncle Ghost?”

“Especially not him.”

The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.

I moved fast, keeping close to the wall. Two guards were stationed near the stairs. I waited till one turned to smoke a cigarette, then walked right past the other like I belonged there.

He nodded. “Morning, ma’am.”

I forced a smile. “Morning.” 

A door creaked somewhere down the hall. My pulse jumped.

One of the maids came out carrying towels, humming.

I ducked into a corner, pretending to tie my robe.

She looked up. “Madam? You’re awake early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said quickly, forcing a yawn. “Needed water.”

She smiled, stepping aside. “Be careful, the floors are slippery.”

I walked past her, nodding. My legs felt like lead.

The moment I turned the corner, I pressed my hand to my chest. My heart didn’t slow until I reached the west wing. The war room. Vittorio’s private space.

Locked, of course. But the key fit. Thank God!!

I pushed the door open slow.

Inside was dark, smelling like dust and gun oil. Files stacked. Maps pinned. Weapons gleaming under the low light.

“Where would you hide it?” I muttered.

The map was supposed to be inside a painting. That’s what the man said. The one who sent me here. The one who’d kill me if I failed.

I scanned the walls. Dozens of framed art pieces. Too many.

I started with the biggest one — a storm over Venice. Lifted it. Nothing. Next one. Empty. Third one — heavy.

My fingers brushed a small panel behind the frame. I pushed. It clicked.

A safe.

“Got you,” I whispered.

I tried the handle. Locked.

“Of course,” I muttered. “Always a damn safe.”

I knelt, pulled the key from my pocket. It didn’t fit.

“Come on…”

The sweat ran down my neck. I wiped it and looked around the desk. Papers. Pens. A coffee mug.

Then I saw it — a small silver keychain under a stack of files.

I grabbed it, tried again. The lock turned.

The safe opened.

Inside — papers, photos, and a rolled-up canvas.

I unrolled it fast. The ink marks. The faded handwriting. The fox sigil.

“The map,” I breathed. “Finally.”

I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me. Not until she spoke.

“What are you doing?”

I froze.

Katarina stood at the door, barefoot, hair messy, wearing one of Vittorio’s shirts.

Her eyes were sharp, still half-asleep but focused.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

She stepped closer. “Neither should you. That’s Vittorio’s safe.”

I forced a laugh. “He told me to get something.”

“Really?” she asked. “Because he told me no one touches that safe. Not even Valentino.”

Her gaze dropped to the map in my hand.

“What is that?”

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, rolling it up.

She frowned. “You’re not Fiorella.”

My heart skipped. “What?”

“Don’t play with me. I know You’re not her.”

I tried to step past her. She blocked me.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

I gritted my teeth. “Move, Katarina.”

“No.”

“Last warning.”

She didn’t move.

That was it.

I grabbed the small statue from the desk and swung.

The sound cracked — soft but sharp.

She fell hard, eyes wide, blood already running down her temple.

I stood there, breathing hard, statue in my hand.

“Damn it,” I whispered.

Her chest rose — still breathing.

I bent down, checked her pulse. “Lucky you.” Her blood stained my fingers. I hated that it didn’t stop me.

I grabbed the map, stuffed it under my arm, and ran,