Trusting Him Was A Mistake

~ Alina’s POV

A cold realization settled over me when I realized what they were doing.

Legal erasure.

People were declared dead on paper and had their identities freed from oversight. But they were used again where it mattered. For money, power, and ownership, their names were used as if they were invisible and untouchable.

I sat back slowly, my fingers hovering above the keyboard as everything started to connect. “That’s how they’re doing it…” I whispered. “No one checks the dead.”

A faint sound behind me pulled me out of my thoughts. I stilled when I heard footsteps echo behind me. At first, I ignored it since it was a public place. People were always coming and going, I’d be a fool to think someone would try anything here.

But then it happened again, and a shiver ran down my spine when I realized it was closer this time. I resisted the urge to turn around immediately, forcing myself to keep my posture relaxed, my eyes still on the screen. “You’re imagining things,” I told myself quietly.

But I wasn’t. I could feel it now. I could feel the cold creeping up my back, the same way it did in Florence, as if someone was watching me.

I shut the system down calmly, my movements controlled despite the tension building inside me. “Don’t react,” I whispered under my breath. “Just move.”

I stood up, adjusting my bag over my shoulder, and walked toward the exit without looking back. However, the footsteps followed again.

My pulse quickened. “Okay…” I breathed out slowly. “I’m definitely not imagining it.” I stepped outside into the open air, the noise of the street wrapping around me instantly, but it didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. There were too many people and too many places to disappear…or to be followed.

I walked faster now, turning down a side street without hesitation, my mind racing through options. “Think, Alina, think…”

“Running won’t help.” The calm and familiar voice came from behind me.

I stopped. For a second, I considered ignoring it, but I didn’t. Gathering the courage, I slowly turned around and almost sighed in relief.

Riccardo stood a few steps away, his expression sharper than before, his usual composure edged with something I hadn’t seen until now, urgency.

“You have a habit of appearing where you’re not supposed to be,” I said, crossing my arms despite the tension coiling in my chest.

“And you have a habit of going where you shouldn’t,” he replied.

“Funny,” I muttered. “I thought you said you weren’t here to stop me.”

“I’m not,” he said. “But this—” he gestured slightly around us “—this is different.”

I frowned. “How?”

“Because now you’re visible.”

A chill ran down my spine. “Visible to who?”

His jaw tightened slightly. “To people who don’t have conversations before they act.”

I held his gaze, refusing to let the fear take over. “Then maybe you should start explaining things instead of speaking in riddles.”

“I told you before,” he said. “You don’t need explanations. You need distance.”

“I’m not leaving,” I said immediately.

“I know,” he replied, and something in his tone made my chest tighten. It was as if he was angry…angry at me for not listening, but then he continued, “That’s the problem.”

Silence stretched between us for a moment. Then I stepped closer. “I saw the records,” I said quietly. “The transactions. The identities. People who are legally dead… still signing off financial transfers.”

His eyes flickered, just slightly. “You’re starting to see the structure,” he said.

“Then deny it,” I pressed. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Which told me enough. “They’re erasing people,” I continued, my voice lowering. “And then using their identities like tools. No oversight. No trace.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” he said.

“Then make it simple.”

“I can’t.”

Frustration surged through me. “You keep saying that!”

“And you keep asking questions that will get you killed,” he snapped, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the air.

The words hit me harder than I thought they would. But instead of backing down, I stepped closer. “Then maybe I’m asking the right ones.”

His gaze locked onto mine, something unreadable passing through it. “You’re already on their radar, Alina,” he said quietly. The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. There was an urgency in his tone that showed how serious the matter was.

My stomach dropped. “What does that mean?”

“It means what you’re doing isn’t unnoticed anymore,” he replied. “It means the systems you’re accessing… the places you’re going… they’re being watched.”

“By you?” I asked.

“Not just me anymore.”

The answer sent a chill through me. “Then why are you here?” I asked.

He hesitated just for a second. Then he stepped slightly to the side, his posture shifting just enough to block my direct line of sight toward the main street. “Because you’re about to walk into something you won’t walk out of,” he said quietly.

My eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he nodded subtly toward the building across the street, the one I hadn’t paid attention to before. It was a registry annex, and access was restricted for that building.

“You go in there like this,” he said, “you won’t make it past the first level without being flagged.”

“And if I don’t go in?” I challenged.

“Then you stay ignorant.”

I let out a quiet breath. “That’s not an option.”

“I figured,” he said.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then I asked the one question that had been sitting at the back of my mind since Florence. “Why are you helping me?”

“I’m not,” he replied immediately.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” he said. “I’m helping myself.”

I frowned. “How does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t need to,” he said. “Just understand this…you don’t have much time before this escalates.”

My pulse quickened. “Escalates how?”

“You’ll find out,” he said, stepping back. “Try not to make it easy for them.”

Before I could stop him, he turned and walked away…again. He always left before I got real answers. I stood there for a moment, my thoughts racing, before I turned toward the building he had pointed out. “If I don’t have time,” I whispered to myself, “then I won’t waste it.”

The registry annex was quieter than the main office, its security tighter but not impossible. I moved carefully, timing my entry, slipping past the first layer without drawing attention. My heart pounded steadily in my chest as I navigated through the restricted sections, my instincts guiding me more than logic at this point.

“Just one file…” I murmured. “Just one answer…”

I reached a terminal deep inside the restricted archive, my fingers moving quickly through the keyboard as I accessed the deeper layers of the system. I accessed the hidden directories and the encrypted logs.

And then…there it was. A file that seemed like it shouldn’t exist. It didn’t have any classification, not even standard labeling. It only had a piece of paper with a coded reference.

My breath slowed as I opened it, my eyes scanning the contents carefully. It had names, statuses, and future declarations. My fingers trembled slightly as I scrolled. And then I saw it.

I froze mid-stance. “No…” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Because right there…among the list of identities scheduled for legal erasure….

Was my name.

Alina Moretti.

And next to it, in cold, official text….

Pending Deceased Declaration.