Chapter Eighty: The Honeymoon

The call came at noon.

We were sitting at a cafe in Recoleta when Felix's name appeared on my phone. I stared at it for a moment before answering. I already knew what he was going to say.

"We found Alvarez," he said. "He's at his office. He's been there since seven this morning. He hasn't left."

"Where?"

"A bank on Avenida Corrientes. Small. Private. The kind of place that doesn't advertise."

I looked at Adrian. He was watching me. He knew what the call was about. He didn't need to ask.

"We're on our way," I said.

I hung up. I set the phone down.

Adrian didn't move. He just looked at me.

"You want to go now," he said.

"Yes."

"We could wait. We could take another day. We could have this."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"This is who I am," I said. "I can't sit in cafes while he's out there. I can't pretend the world isn't burning."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Then let's go," he said.

He stood. He offered his hand. I took it.

---

The bank was on a side street off Avenida Corrientes.

It didn't look like a bank. It looked like an accounting firm. A brass plaque. A heavy door. No windows. No sign. The kind of place where money moved without anyone noticing.

Dana was already in position across the street. Marcus was in a cafe two doors down. Leo was coordinating with local authorities. Sloane was in the car.

Adrian and I walked to the door.

"You're not going in," he said.

"I am."

"Elena—"

"I'm going in. I'm not asking."

He looked at me. His jaw was tight. He didn't argue.

"Then I'm going with you," he said.

We walked inside.

---

The receptionist was young. Blonde. She looked up when we entered. She didn't smile.

"Can I help you?"

"We're here to see Ricardo Alvarez," I said.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"Then I can't help you."

I reached into my bag. I pulled out a folder. I set it on her desk.

"Tell him Elena Voss is here. Tell him I have information about Andrei Volkov that will interest him."

She looked at the folder. Then at me. Then at Adrian.

"Wait here," she said.

She disappeared through a door behind her desk. I stood in the lobby. The minutes passed. I didn't sit down.

She returned. Her expression had changed. Something like fear.

"Top floor," she said. "The elevator will take you up."

I nodded. I walked to the elevator. Adrian followed.

The doors closed. The car rose.

---

Ricardo Alvarez was not what I expected.

He was older. Sixties. Gray hair. Expensive suit. He sat behind a desk that was larger than my first apartment. He didn't stand when we entered. He didn't offer his hand. He just watched us.

"Miss Voss," he said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm sure you have."

"You're the reason Volkov is running. You're the reason his operation is falling apart. You're the reason he's hiding in a safe house in the middle of nowhere."

"I'm the reason he's going to prison."

He smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.

"What do you want?"

"I want his money. His accounts. His connections. Everything."

"And why would I give you that?"

"Because if you don't, you'll go down with him."

He didn't react. He just looked at me.

"You have no authority here. No jurisdiction. You're a civilian. A journalist's daughter. A woman with a grudge."

"I'm a woman with evidence. I'm a woman with resources. I'm a woman who has already destroyed Henry Ashford and Julian Ashford and everyone who helped them. And I'm not going to stop until Volkov is behind bars."

He studied me. He didn't blink.

"You're not afraid," he said.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I've already died once. I'm not afraid of dying again."

He held my gaze. Neither of us spoke.

Then he laughed. A short, hollow sound.

"You're either very brave or very stupid," he said.

"Both," I said.

He stood. He walked to the window. He didn't turn around.

"Volkov has been a client of mine for ten years. He pays well. He trusts me. He doesn't know that I've been keeping records. Copies. Insurance."

"Why?"

"Because men like Volkov don't retire. They don't walk away. They die. And when they die, their money disappears. I don't intend to disappear with it."

He turned. He looked at me.

"I'll give you what you want. The accounts. The records. The connections. Everything."

"What do you want in return?"

"Immunity. Protection. A new identity. Enough money to disappear."

I looked at Adrian. He looked at me.

"Done," I said.

---

The records were extensive.

Alvarez had been keeping track of every transaction. Every transfer. Every account. Every connection. He had names. Dates. Amounts. Everything we needed.

Felix arrived within the hour. He set up in the conference room. He started copying everything. He started building the case.

I sat in the lobby. Adrian sat beside me. We didn't speak. The city hummed outside. The clock ticked.

After a while, he said, "It's done."

"Not yet."

"It will be."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For coming with me. For staying. For not trying to stop me."

He didn't respond. He just looked at me.

"I learned a long time ago that I can't stop you," he said. "I can only help you."

I reached for his hand. I took it. His fingers were warm. Steady.

We sat there. The city hummed. The clock ticked.

I didn't lean my head against his shoulder. I didn't close my eyes. I just sat there. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't need anything else.