Chapter 10 - The Maid's Unmasking and the Archives of the Dead
The private jet soared over the Atlantic,
the cabin quiet and dim.
Emily was asleep in one of the oversized leather seats,
wrapped in a cashmere blanket that probably cost more than my first car.
Victor sat across from me,
a glass of scotch in his hand,
staring at a folder of documents Marco had recovered from the Syndicate’s local office.
"You’re very quiet, Elena,"
he said,
not looking up.
"I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,"
I replied.
"You’re taking a maid to Milan to fight a shadow syndicate."
"That doesn't make sense unless there’s something you haven't told me."
Victor finally looked at me,
his eyes searching mine.
"You’re right."
"It doesn't make sense."
"Unless you aren't actually Elena Vance, the girl from the Bronx with a sick mother and a bad bank account."
I felt a coldness settle in my stomach.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Marco did a deep dive on your mother’s medical records,"
Victor said,
tossing a photo onto the table.
It was a photo of a woman who looked exactly like me,
standing in front of a government building in Washington D.C.
"The woman in this photo is Claire Sterling."
"She was a forensic auditor for the Department of Justice."
"She disappeared six years ago after uncovering a massive money-laundering scheme involving shipping terminals."
"The same year Emily was born."
"The same year the 'Elena Vance' identity was created in the New York system."
I didn't move.
I didn't breathe.
The secret I had buried under layers of soap suds and floor wax was being dragged into the light.
"I did what I had to do to survive,"
I said,
my voice a low hiss.
"The people I was investigating... they killed my partner."
"They were going to kill me."
"I didn't know the trail would lead to the Russos."
"I just wanted to hide."
Victor leaned forward,
his face inches from mine.
"You didn't 'just' happen to get a job at my estate, Claire."
"You chose me because you knew I was the only one powerful enough to protect you if they found you."
"You weren't just a maid."
"You were a sleeper agent waiting for the right moment to strike at the Syndicate."
"And my daughter?"
I asked,
my voice trembling.
"Was she part of the plan too?"
"No,"
I whispered.
"She was the only thing that was real."
Victor stayed silent for a long time.
"The Syndicate killed your partner,"
he said finally.
"And they tried to kill my daughter today."
"It seems we have a common enemy, Claire."
"Or Elena."
"Or whoever you want to be today."
"But in Milan,"
"you won't be cleaning my floors."
"You’ll be helping me burn the Syndicate to the ground."
"Because you know where the money is hidden."
"And I know how to make them bleed for it."
I looked at Emily,
then at the man who was both my savior and my captor.
The 'crooked label' wasn't just on the medicine.
It was on the life I had built.
And now,
the mask was off.
"Tell me about Sofia,"
I said,
stepping into the role I had abandoned years ago.
"Tell me everything she loves."
"Because I’m going to take it all away."
The drama had moved from the hallways of a mansion to the theaters of international war.
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And this time,
the maid wasn't just watching.
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