LEX'S POV
The name "Sphinx" hung in the quiet air like poison gas. Lex's body reacted before her mind could. Her fists clenched, her feet shifted into a fighter's stance, wide, balanced, ready. It was an old reflex, buried for years but suddenly alive.
Vito saw it. He didn't move from where he stood by the elevator doors. He just watched her, his head tilted slightly. "There she is," he said softly. "The undefeated champion of the Iron Ring. You hid her well under those aprons."
"You don't know anything," Lex spat, her heart hammering. Her secret was out. The one thing she'd kept from the world.
"I know you fought under a black mask," Vito said, taking a slow step toward her. "I know you won seventeen straight matches by knockout. I know your final fight was against a man called 'The Hammer'. And I know that man was your brother, Leo."
Each sentence was a hammer blow. He didn't just know the name. He knew everything.
"It was an accident," Lex whispered, the old grief rushing back, choking her.
"I know that, too," Vito said. He stopped walking. He didn't look angry. He looked… thoughtful. "The police report was a cover-up. The promoters paid to make it go away. But in our world, a death like that leaves a debt. A blood debt."
Lex shook her head, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"The man who ran the Iron Ring. The one who set up the fight, who forced your brother to throw it. His name is Marco. He was my business partner." Vito's voice turned cold. "He used my money, my reputation, to run his dirty fights. Your brother's death is on his hands. But the debt? That belongs to me."
He turned and walked across the vast living room to a sleek, dark wood desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He held it up.
"This is the original loan agreement. Your father's signature is at the bottom. He borrowed money from me to pay off Leo's gambling debts to Marco. To try and save him."
Lex felt the floor sway. She remembered the clipping, her father's note: Forgive me. This was what he was asking forgiveness for. He'd gone to the devil to try and save his son.
"The debt was called in after your father died," Vito continued. "You inherited it. All of it."
"So that's it?" Lex's voice was raw. "You drag me here to throw a number in my face? To tell me I'm owned?"
"No," Vito said, placing the paper on the desk. "I brought you here to offer you a new deal. A different way to pay."
He picked up a pen. "Marco is a problem. He is greedy. He is disrespectful. He thinks because he knows my secrets, he can take what is mine. He needs to be… handled. But he is careful. He is surrounded by men who are loyal to him, not to me."
A horrible understanding began to dawn on Lex. "No."
"He loves fighters," Vito continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "He misses the glory days of the Iron Ring. He would be very interested to meet the legendary Sphinx. To have her fight for him again."
"You want to use me as bait?" Lex's words were a disbelieving whisper.
"I want to use you as a key," Vito corrected. "You get close to him. You gain his trust. You help me find the evidence I need to remove him. You do this for me, and the debt…" He picked up the contract and neatly tore it in half. "The debt vanishes. Not in thirty days. When the job is done."
He dropped the torn pieces into a small metal trash can by the desk. "Refuse, and the full debt is due immediately. I take the restaurant, your apartment, everything. And," he added, his eyes locking onto hers, "I cannot guarantee your friend Sophia's safety from Marco. He is not as… polite as I am."
There it was. The real deal. The devil's bargain.
He wasn't asking for a waitress or a holiday companion. He was asking for a weapon. He was asking her to become the Sphinx again, to walk back into the nightmare that killed her brother, all to settle his own business war.
"You're asking me to get myself killed," Lex said.
"I'm asking you to fight," Vito said. "One last time. Not in a ring for money. For your freedom. For your life. For everything you have left."
He slid a new, single-page contract across the desk toward her. At the top, it said: CONFIDENTIAL SERVICES AGREEMENT. At the bottom was a line for her signature.
Lex walked slowly to the desk. She looked down at the paper. The language was simple. It said she agreed to provide "consulting services" to Vittorio Scardoni for the purpose of a "business dissolution." There was no mention of fighting, of Marco, or of her past. It was a clean, legal-looking lie.
Her freedom for her soul. Her future for her past.
She thought of Sophia, walking down that dark alley. She thought of Romano's, her father's shame, her brother's ghost. She thought of living in this gilded cage forever, owned by a number.
Vito held out the pen.
Lex's hand didn't want to move. It felt like stone. She saw her brother's face. He'd tell her to fight. But he'd also tell her to run.
She wasn't a runner.
Her fingers closed around the cool metal of the pen. She leaned over the desk.
She signed her name. Alessia Costa. The ink was dark and final. As she straightened up, Vito gave a slow, approving nod. Then he reached into the trash can and pulled out the two torn halves of her father's debt contract. He carefully lined up the pieces on the desk, showing her the signature. "Good," he said. "Now, there's one more thing." He lit a match and touched it to the torn paper. As the old debt burned to ashes in front of her, he said, "The deal is sealed. Training starts tomorrow. Your first meeting with Marco is in seventy-two hours." Lex stared at the flames, realizing she hadn't just agreed to help. She had agreed to become the monster from her past, on a timer.