Chapter 23: “The Meeting”

Tayla’s POV

I didn't call the police.

Not after the second photograph.

Not after the message.

Not even after spending half the night staring at Noah's bedroom door.

Maybe I should have.

Maybe a smarter woman would have.

But deep down, I already knew what would happen.

The police would take a report.

Ask questions.

Promise to investigate.

And meanwhile, whoever was watching us would continue doing exactly what they were doing.

Watching.

Waiting.

Getting closer.

By the time dawn arrived, I hadn't slept at all.

The photograph remained on the kitchen table.

A silent reminder that somebody out there knew where my son was.

And wanted me to know it.

Noah shuffled into the kitchen around seven, his hair sticking up in every direction.

He yawned dramatically.

"Mom."

"Hm?"

"Why do you always wake up before me?"

I managed a smile.

"Because somebody has to make sure you don't eat ice cream for breakfast."

His grin appeared immediately.

"So you're saying it's possible?"

For the first time in days, I laughed.

A real laugh.

The kind that surprised me.

Noah looked pleased with himself.

Mission accomplished.

Then he sat down and started talking about a school trip planned for next month.

I listened.

Or at least I tried to.

Most of my attention remained fixed on the clock.

Because in less than two hours, I would be meeting Michael Bennett.

And I had a feeling that meeting was going to change everything.

The café Michael chose wasn't fancy.

That surprised Tayla.

She had expected something private.

Something hidden.

Instead, he picked a crowded coffee shop near the river.

Business people filled most of the tables.

Students occupied the rest.

The constant noise made private conversations almost impossible to overhear.

Smart.

Very smart.

Michael was already seated when she arrived.

He stood as she approached.

Older than she expected.

Early sixties.

Gray hair.

Sharp eyes.

The kind of man who noticed everything.

"Mrs. Russo."

"Michael."

They shook hands.

Then sat.

No small talk.

No introductions.

Michael got straight to the point.

"Did anyone follow you?"

The question caught her off guard.

"I don't think so."

Michael frowned slightly.

"That's not very reassuring."

Tayla's stomach tightened.

He leaned forward.

"Do you have the flash drives?"

She nodded.

His shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Good."

She reached into her purse.

But Michael immediately stopped her.

"Not here."

The urgency in his voice surprised her.

His eyes scanned the room quickly.

Then returned to hers.

"Let's talk first."

For the next thirty minutes, Michael explained things Damian had never told her.

Things Tayla suspected even he didn't fully understand until recently.

According to Michael, someone had been stealing money from the Russo Group for years.

Not thousands.

Not even millions.

Hundreds of millions.

The amount was so large it seemed impossible.

The kind of crime people only saw in movies.

"The money disappeared through dozens of shell companies."

Michael stirred his coffee absentmindedly.

"Everything looked legitimate on paper."

Tayla stared at him.

"And Damian discovered it?"

Michael nodded.

"By accident."

A chill ran through her.

Because she already knew where this story was heading.

"Then he started investigating."

"Yes."

"What about Luca?"

Michael became quiet.

Very quiet.

For several seconds he simply watched people moving through the café.

When he finally spoke, his voice was lower.

More careful.

"Damian believed Luca was involved."

Believed.

Not knew.

Believed.

The distinction mattered.

A lot.

Because suspicion wasn't proof.

Not yet.

"Did Damian have evidence?"

Michael looked directly at her.

"The flash drives might contain it."

Tayla's phone suddenly vibrated.

The sound made her jump.

She glanced at the screen.

Luca.

Her stomach immediately tightened.

Michael noticed.

"Who is it?"

"Luca."

The older man's expression changed instantly.

Not dramatically.

But enough.

Enough to tell her he understood exactly why that mattered.

"Don't answer."

The advice came immediately.

Tayla frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if Damian was right..."

Michael stopped.

Carefully choosing his next words.

"...then Luca doesn't need to know what you're doing today."

The phone stopped ringing.

A second later, a text message appeared.

Where are you?

Tayla stared at it.

Something about the message bothered her.

Not the words themselves.

The timing.

Luca rarely questioned where she went.

So why now?

After leaving the café, Michael drove them to a secure office building across town.

Only then did Tayla hand over the flash drives.

The moment Michael connected the first one to his computer, the atmosphere changed.

His relaxed demeanor disappeared completely.

For almost an hour, he reviewed documents in silence.

Opening files.

Checking records.

Comparing transactions.

The deeper he looked, the more concerned he became.

Finally, he removed his glasses.

The color had drained from his face.

"What is it?"

Michael looked at her.

For the first time since they met, he seemed genuinely worried.

"These aren't copies."

Tayla blinked.

"What?"

"These are originals."

The room suddenly felt colder.

Michael pointed at the screen.

"Damian wasn't collecting evidence."

His voice hardened.

"He was building a case."

Tayla's pulse quickened.

"What does that mean?"

"It means if these records are authentic..."

He paused.

"...someone powerful is going to prison for a very long time."

The drive home felt endless.

Rain hammered against the windshield.

Traffic barely moved.

Yet none of it mattered.

Because Tayla couldn't stop thinking about one question.

If Damian really found proof...

Then why was he the one behind bars?

The answer terrified her.

Because the more she learned, the less Damian looked like the villain.

And the more dangerous Luca appeared.

When she finally arrived home, something felt wrong immediately.

The doorman's expression.

The silence in the hallway.

The knot forming in her stomach.

Everything.

She hurried to the apartment.

Unlocked the door.

Stepped inside.

"Hello?"

No answer.

Her heart began pounding.

"Noah?"

Still nothing.

Fear exploded inside her.

She rushed through the apartment.

Living room.

Kitchen.

Bedroom.

Empty.

Then she heard laughter.

Coming from the balcony.

Tayla practically ran outside.

And froze.

Noah sat at a table eating ice cream.

Perfectly safe.

Perfectly happy.

Across from him sat Luca.

Relief hit her so hard she nearly collapsed.

Then came anger.

Sharp.

Instant.

"What are you doing here?"

Both of them looked up.

Noah smiled.

"Uncle Luca bought ice cream."

Luca stood slowly.

Something about his expression felt different.

Harder.

More serious.

"I've been trying to reach you all day."

Tayla's pulse quickened.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Noah seemed to notice it too.

Because he quietly focused on his ice cream.

Pretending not to listen.

Luca stepped closer.

Not threatening.

Not aggressive.

Yet somehow the movement felt intimidating.

"Where were you?"

The question sounded simple.

But Tayla heard something underneath it.

Something dangerous.

Something that made her think of the photographs.

The warnings.

The threats.

For the first time, she didn't see Damian's brother.

She saw a man she wasn't sure she knew at all.

And that realization frightened her more than anything else.