Chapter 2 - THE BLACK COFFEE PROPOSITION
Matteo Romano did not blink. He stared at the woman in the chair, a slow, dangerous stillness washing over him. The men in the room shifted, hands resting on holstered weapons, waiting for the order to silence her.
“Incorrectly,” Matteo repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like smooth gravel.
“Yes,” Sophie said. Her voice remained devoid of tremor. She rolled her wrists subtly, illustrating her point. “The plastic is seated against the ulna, not the radius. Your man didn’t cross my wrists tight enough before pulling the tab. If I had three minutes and a sharp edge on this wooden chair, I could slip it. But I don’t want to ruin my sweater, so I would prefer you cut them off.”
Leo the Brick took a step forward, his heavy jaw set in anger. “Boss, let me just—”
“Stop,” Matteo commanded quietly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hazel eyes locking onto hers. He had interrogated seasoned killers who shook harder than the woman sitting before him. “You’re telling me my men can’t tie a knot, Chloe?”
“I’m telling you my name is Sophie Gallagher,” she corrected flatly. “Chloe is my twin sister. She is right-handed; I am left. She has a small scar under her chin from a bicycle accident when we were twelve; I do not. She steals bearer bonds from organized crime syndicates; I calculate risk mortality rates for actuaries. Now, if you are going to keep me here to draw her out, that is a statistically poor plan. Chloe only cares about Chloe. Furthermore, I have a headache, my feet are freezing, and if we are going to discuss how your internal security was compromised to allow my sister to rob you, I would like a cup of black coffee.”
The silence in the warehouse was absolute. The rain hammered against the corrugated tin roof, a rhythmic drumming that underscored the tension.
May you like
Matteo’s lips twitched. It was a microscopic movement, but Leo saw it and stepped back. Matteo stood, pocketed his Zippo, and pulled a switchblade from his inner jacket pocket. With a fluid, sudden motion, he stepped behind Sophie and sliced the zip ties.
“Get her a coffee,” Matteo ordered the room. “Black. And Leo? Run her prints on the glass. If she’s lying, we bury her. If she’s telling the truth, we have a very different kind of problem.”
