She is not supposed to be here.
She glances once in the rearview mirror.
Not enough to clock me. Enough to tell me she knows exactly what she just did.
She has something.
She would not be leaving a bank before opening hours with that look on her face for anything insignificant.
I do not need a bank manager to tell me my life just changed.
I let two cars slide between us and follow her downtown.
She driveslike a woman trying to look normal.
Which is how I know she is not.
She makes every light.
I make most of them.
By the time she reaches Tribeca, I know two things.
She took something that belongs to me.
And I am done letting her make decisions about my life without me.
She parks outside her building.
I stay in the car and watch her disappear inside.
Then I count to thirty.
And follow her in.
9
NADIA
Alessandro's office is on the forty-second floor of the Moretti Global tower. At 12:41 a.m. on a Saturday, I am the only person in it besides him.
He is at the window. His back to me. Manhattan in the dark behind him.
He does not turn when I walk in. He does not turn when I sit down.
The not-turning is the conversation.
I have walked into this office at this hour twice in my career. Both times, he turned around.
He does not turn tonight.
Cazzo — fuck.
"Stavros," he says.
"Yes."
Six probes against the offshore network in the last three months. Each one more sophisticated than the last. None of them surfaced through internal compliance. None of them flagged through MGS." A pause. "All of them flagged through you."
