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But Stephen's face was deadly serious as he nodded. "It's not just him we're after. It’s the whole operation. He has a lot of contacts in human trafficking, in arms dealing…he’s a dangerous motherfucker, your father. But he rarely gets his own hands dirty unless he has to. He’s also smart. Every time I tried to collect evidence of him actively killing someone, like that journalist, he’d sent me away…”
“He broadcasted that. On the internet. You guys have evidence.”
Stephen rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What happened to Miranda was a tragedy,” he answered. “But it would have been impossible to nail him.
“And why’s that?” My voice wavered, uncertainty creeping in. This was a man I thought I’d understood, a predator lurking amongst us like a friend. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. But now…
“There were no witnesses, no evidence it was him directly. The livestream could have been a performance. Miranda was desperate for fame, wasn’t she?” he explained, leaning back into his chair. “Only suspicions and theories. Your father is...cautious. He makes sure to cover his tracks well."
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "So what does this mean? What are you implying?"
"That we needed more concrete evidence," Stephen stated, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "The kind that can't be explained away or brushed under the rug."
“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”
“Hey. I don’t make the rules,” Stephen said. “If we brought your father in because of Miranda, his associates would’ve gotten spooked. Do you know the kind of damage that would do to the op?”
I sat back in my chair, my mind racing as I tried to take it all in. So, all this time he'd been working for the FBI, not the Viper. He was trying to bring my father down, not serve him. It was a relief, and yet, it was terrifying. Because what did that mean for me?
“What… what does this mean for me?” I finally managed to ask, my voice a mere whisper against the heavy silence.
Stephen sighed again, rubbing his temples as if he was trying to fight off a headache. “You and your brother, Sam, are far from guilty. You were born into this life. You never chose it. We didn’t expect a cop and his sister to get caught up in all of this. The Mercy Blades, they were a liability, sure, but we know how to handle criminals. But a journalist and a junior cop? Both of you are victims in this.”
"And what does that mean? Victims? Are we just collateral damage in your big operation?" I spat out, my body trembling with a fury I didn't know I could muster.
He looked at me, his gaze steady. "You aren't collateral, Sofia. Our goal has always been to keep the innocent safe from harm."
"Innocent." I scoffed, rolling the word around my tongue as if it left a sour taste. "Is that why you left Victor to fend for himself? Because he's not 'innocent'?"
Stephen flinched at that, and for the first time since our conversation started, I saw a hint of regret in his eyes. "I didn't...that was never my intention. The Blades are known for their resilience. They can handle themselves, even against your father. They can hold their own."
“They have almost died because of my father several times over,” I said. “What are you planning to do about it?”
“Well, we’re going to ask you for help,” Stephen replied. “Are you sure you don’t want that drink?”
I did want that drink. I took a step toward him, tipped it into my mouth and downed it in one.
“Why…why didn’t you reach out to me after I posted my article?”
Stephen leaned back in his seat, a pained grimace on his hardened face. "Sofia," he began, shaking his head. "You have to understand. We were already onto the Viper before you posted your article. We didn't reach out to you because we didn't want to tip our hand too early."
"So instead of helping me, you just let me walk into the viper's nest, is that it?" I shot back, my hands trembling with anger.
"No." He was firm, glaring at me with those steely eyes. "We never wanted that for you or your brother. It was unfortunate - unforeseen even - but the entire operation is incredibly delicate."
"Screw your 'operation'!" I snapped, dramatically making air quotes with my hands. "Sam could have been killed! I could have been killed! The Blades…”
“Are grown men. Who can make their own decisions.”
“And what about me?” I shot back, my voice breaking. “Do I not get to make my own decisions?”
His jaw clenched. “You are making your decisions, Sofia. You chose to post that article. You chose to stick with the Blades. You might have fallen into this accidentally, but you’re not doing any of this because you don’t want to.”
I flinched at his blunt words, my heart pounding in my chest. "And what about them? What about me? I didn't choose any of this!” I hated how much it sounded like a plea. “I wanted to protect my brother.”
He nodded. “I know. That’s exactly why we can't just barge in and expose everything," he answered calmly, his gaze steady on me. "The FBI can't risk the lives of you, Sam or anyone else involved."
"I can handle myself," I snapped, teeth gritting at his subtle implication.
