The opportunity came disguised as negligence.
It was late afternoon when Sofia noticed the camera wasn't blinking.
She had been pacing the length of her room for the third time, counting steps, testing the acoustics of the walls with the flat of her palm. When she reached the door, she stopped not because of instinct, but because of absence.
The soft mechanical whir.
Gone.
She leaned closer. The camera sat above the frame, dark and still. No red light. No hum.
Her pulse ticked faster, traitorous.
Too easy, her mind warned.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
No footsteps. No voice. No Giulia appearing like she always did when Sofia thought she was alone.
Sofia opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
She stepped out slowly, bare feet silent against stone. The lights were on, steady and warm. The house felt… distracted. As if attention had been pulled elsewhere.
At the corner, she paused.
Still no camera.
This was new.
Her heart beat harder now not with hope, but calculation. Alessio had shown her the service corridor days ago. Shown her the cameras. Told her not yet.
Men like him didn't make mistakes.
Which meant either this wasn't one or it was meant for someone else.
She moved anyway.
Down the hall. Past the turn. Toward the narrow door embedded in the wall, painted the same color as everything else. It was closed.
Unlocked, last time he'd said.
She pressed her palm to it.
It opened.
The corridor beyond was dim, industrial, nothing like the villa. Concrete walls. Exposed wiring. The smell of damp earth. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her.
The sound echoed too loudly.
She froze.
Still nothing.
She moved faster now, shoes in hand, steps light. The corridor sloped downward, then curved. At the far end, faint daylight filtered through a grated opening.
The gardens.
Her breath caught despite herself.
She reached the final door and pushed.
It opened onto air.
Cool. Fresh. Real.
The garden stretched out before her terraced stone, cypress trees, a low wall at the far edge. Beyond it, land sloped downward toward something wild and unguarded.
She stepped out.
The gravel crunched.
Immediately, voices rose.
Not shouts. Conversation.
Men.
She ducked behind a low hedge, heart slamming, and peered through the leaves.
Two men stood near the wall. Armed. Relaxed. Not guards soldiers. Talking in low voices.
"…Marco's people are getting restless," one said.
"They always do."
"He thinks Alessio's distracted."
The other laughed. "By the girl?"
"Yes."
"That's stupid."
"She's leverage."
The second man shifted his weight. "Ricci won't wait forever."
"No. That's the problem."
Sofia's blood turned cold.
Ricci.
Her father.
A footstep crunched behind her.
She spun and collided with Giulia.
Giulia's hand clamped over her mouth instantly, firm and practiced. Her other arm locked around Sofia's waist, pulling her back into the shadow of the corridor.
"Don't," Giulia whispered into her ear. "Move."
Sofia struggled for half a second. Then stopped.
Giulia guided her backward, silent, controlled, until they were inside again. The door closed softly.
Giulia didn't let go until they were deep in the corridor.
"That," Giulia said quietly, "was not your escape."
Sofia's heart pounded so hard it hurt. "The camera—"
"—wasn't broken," Giulia finished. "It was redirected."
"By who?"
Giulia looked at her. "That's the question."
They emerged back into the villa. As soon as they did, guards appeared too fast, too synchronized.
Alessio stood at the end of the hall.
He was not angry.
That was worse.
"You walked through a door I told you not to touch," he said.
"You said not yet," Sofia shot back. "That implies later."
His gaze flicked briefly to Giulia. Then back to Sofia.
"Did you enjoy the garden?" he asked.
She hesitated.
"Yes," she said finally. "Until I realized it wasn't empty."
"Good," Alessio replied. "Then you learned something."
"That you're surrounded by enemies?"
"That you are," he corrected, "valuable enough to bait them."
Her stomach dropped. "You knew?"
"I suspected."
"You let me walk into it."
"I watched you walk into it," he said. "There's a difference."
Sofia clenched her fists. "Someone wanted me seen."
"Yes."
"And if I'd gone over the wall?"
"You wouldn't have made it to the trees."
"How do you know?"
Alessio stepped closer, voice low. "Because Marco's men were supposed to be there."
Giulia stiffened.
Sofia's breath caught. "Supposed to be?"
"They arrived early," Alessio said. "Which tells me more than their presence would have."
"About what?"
"About who's lying."
Silence fell heavy.
Sofia stared at him, understanding dawning slowly and horribly.
"This escape," she said, "wasn't for me."
"No," Alessio agreed. "It was for them."
"And what am I?" she asked.
His gaze locked onto hers. "You're the reason it worked."
He turned away. "Take her back."
Giulia guided Sofia toward her room again.
As the door closed, Sofia's legs trembled not from fear of being caught but from the realization that she had just been used to expose a fracture in a war she didn't yet understand.
And that someone in the house had wanted her to disappear before Alessio could act on it.