Victor’s smile was all teeth. “Not for me. For someone else. But yes, in essence: be useful. You keep your family safe, and you never see another Caruso again.”
I went cold all over. “You want me to finish the project.”
He nodded, almost respectful. “You’re close, aren’t you? The last memo said you were weeks out from a proof. That’s why you’re so valuable.”
My stomach twisted. “Why the fuck should I trust you?”
Victor looked at me, then at Marco, then back at Dante. “Because the alternative is extinction. I’m not here to threaten you; I’m here to offer a job. Finish your work, get the results to my client, and you walk. Simple.”
“BioHQ is my IP,” Dante said. “I bought the company for a reason. I’m not just going to let you take my wife and my company, what the fuck are you talking about?”
Victor was unimpressed. “I didn’t say anything about taking the company. You’re a businessman, Mr. Moretti. Think of this as a licensing arrangement. You provide the demo, you get paid, andyou get to go home with your family intact. Hell, you might even get a lab out of it.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up, dump the coffee in Victor’s lap, and tell him to go fuck himself. Instead, I stayed put, nails biting into my palm so hard I felt I could draw blood. “And if I say no?”
Victor shrugged, as if refusing the offer was just a quirky dinner-party anecdote. “Then someone else gets the opportunity. Your value is your head start, Ms. Bentley. Not your personality. Though,” and here he looked me over again, a little too clinical, “I’m told you have nerves of steel, which is worth something in this line of work.”
Marco piped up from the couch. “Why do you want her project so bad? Isn’t the world full of people who can do gene stuff?”
Victor looked at Marco as if only just remembering he was there. “The world is full of people who can run a gel. It’s not full of people who can make DNA obey. And even fewer who can do it in ways that don’t attract regulatory agencies or federal indictments. Your sister-in-law is one of those. So: you do the job, or you spend the rest of your life running from people who don’t care about your feelings.”
“I’ll need time to decide,” Dante said. “Why were you following us all the way to Toronto? Since when have you been following us? Why didn’t we spot you before?”
Victor’s eyes cut over to me, like he was appraising a specimen. “We weren’t following you in New York. We didn’t have to—you made too much noise. But after your friend Luca tipped his hand, we caught up quick. That was the first time I watched youin person. You’re harder to track than Caruso gave you credit for, but not impossible.”
“Luca,” Dante growled. He didn’t look at me, but the air around him went tight as a drum. “So he was Caruso’s the whole time?”
“Not at first,” Victor said. “But everyone’s got a price, Mr. Moretti. Even your most loyal. Even you.” He let the silence tick for a second, then added: “You should be flattered. They thought you’d be easy to squeeze, but the second you went off-grid, Caruso called in outside help. That’s me. I don’t get paid unless I finish the job.
Dante’s jaw worked, but he said nothing.
I kept my face blank, but inside I was chewing glass. “You said you’re not sentimental—so why the sales pitch? Why not just grab us and be done with it?”
“Because,” Victor said, folding his hands, “my client wants you willing. Not broken. It’s a lot less trouble that way. And”—he shrugged—“I’m not a monster. I just solve problems.”
Dante leaned forward, the edge coming back into his voice. “What’s the project, specifically? What’s in it for your client?”
“Don’t be coy, Moretti. We both know you didn’t buy BioHQ just to impress Dr. Jade here. We both know you know thatthe neuroscience and biotechnology research you were in charge of, particularly regarding axonal regeneration, was about to change the world. Correct?”
I felt my face go hot. Victor knew almost everything. I glanced at Dante, whose jaw was set so hard I thought his teeth mightcrack. Marco had gone quiet, which scared me more than when he made jokes.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s spell it out. The work was on axonal regrowth—repairing neural pathways after injury, with a side order of modifying behavior. Theoretically. No one’s actually made it stick in live mammals, not without massive side effects.” I tried to make my voice as flat as his, but it came out brittle. “That’s why it’s not front page news. Because it’s still a pipe dream for rich men who want to buy new bodies or erase their mistakes.”
Victor’s eyes glittered. “You’re underselling. There are a lot of people who’d pay to have their past…cleaned up. Or to be able to control someone else’s future. And, Dr. Bentley, you were very, very close to something that might actually work.” He turned to Dante, who stared back like a statue. “So, yes. I want that demo. And you, Mr. Moretti, get to decide if it comes from you or your competition.”
I glanced over at Dante, watched the way the scar on his cheek seemed to pulse with every beat of his heart. I wondered if he’d punch Victor here and now, or if he’d wait and do it somewhere quieter. I wondered if I’d stop him. Probably not.
Victor smiled, like he was reading our minds. “You can have the night to think it over. I’ll be in touch at eight a.m. tomorrow. If you say yes, I’ll set you up with a new lab. If not, well… I wouldn’t linger in Toronto.” He stood, tugged the lapel of his coat. “It was a pleasure, Ms. Bentley.”
“Dr. Bentley,” I said under my breath.
He smiled. “Of course. Dr. Bentley,” he said. To Dante: “Mr. Moretti, you’re a lucky man. Not many people get to negotiate with a loaded gun pointed at their head.”
He walked off, the click of his shoes echoing. I counted four seconds before Dante stood, shoving the coffee table forward.
“Fuck,” he said. Not a shout, just a word dropped like a weight.
Marco leaned back, let his head thunk against the wall. “I liked him better when he was just a voice on the phone.”
