9. Elena
9
Elena
" J ust a few discrepancies in some offshore accounts I'd like you to look at," Julian says, his smile warm and reassuring as he bounces Fiona gently on his hip. "Nothing urgent, but I'd appreciate your expertise."
I watch as my daughter giggles, reaching for Julian's face with her tiny hands. At a year and a half, she's becoming more expressive every day, her personality blooming despite everything we've been through.
"Sure," I tell him, checking my watch. "Matteo's in meetings with Nico all morning, anyway."
Matteo … My thighs clench. The way he fucked me yesterday…. I’ve never had sex as intense as that before.
Julian nods, shifting Fiona to his other hip. "Perfect timing, then. The security shift change happens in about twenty minutes. I've set everything up in the west wing study."
"I thought we usually worked in the main office? "
He shrugs. "The west study has better natural light. Easier on the eyes when going through columns of numbers."
Something about his casual tone triggers a faint warning bell in my mind, but I dismiss it. Julian is one of Matteo's most trusted men—and Fiona adores him.
"Let me just grab my laptop," I say.
"No need," he replies quickly. "I've printed everything out."
Ten minutes later, we're walking through the less-frequented corridors of the west wing.
The study Julian leads me to is smaller than the main office, with tall windows that flood the room with morning light.
We set up a playpen in the corner with some of Fiona's favorite toys.
I move to the desk, leafing through the documents while Julian closes the door behind us. "What exactly am I looking for?" I ask, reaching for a folder.
The sound of a lock clicking makes me freeze.
When I turn, everything changes in an instant. Julian is no longer the smiling, gentle man who sneaks my daughter chocolates.
His face has hardened, and he's holding Fiona with one arm while his other hand presses a gun against her tiny head.
"You're looking for a way to keep your daughter alive," he says quietly.
My blood turns cold. "Julian, what are you doing? "
"What I should have done weeks ago. The cameras in this wing have been disabled. You're going to do exactly as I say, or I'll put a bullet through her head."
I force myself to breathe, to think. Fiona's eyes are wide, confused by the sudden tension, but not yet afraid.
"Why?" The question comes out as barely more than a whisper.
"Business. The Caruso made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Deliver you to them, and I get a seat at the table."
"Matteo trusted you."
His laugh is harsh. "Matteo is a fool who thinks loyalty can't be bought."
He gestures toward a bookcase. "Did you know there's an entire network of tunnels beneath this estate? I've spent months mapping the ones that remain."
My mind races, calculating distances, options. If I could reach the desk, dive under it...
"Don't even think about it," Julian warns. "Two of my men are waiting in the tunnel. We'll use the baby as insurance until we're clear. Then you'll both be delivered to Massimo."
Rage unlike anything I've ever known courses through me.
"Julian," I say, forcing my voice to remain steady, "you know Matteo will hunt you to the ends of the earth for this. "
"By the time he realizes you're gone, it'll be too late. Move toward the bookcase. Slowly."
I take a single step, then another, mind whirring. Create a distraction. Use your surroundings. Target vulnerable points.
"How long have you been working for the Caruso?" I ask, taking another measured step.
"Long enough." He adjusts his grip on the gun. "Massimo recognized my potential while Matteo kept me running errands."
Another step. I'm getting closer to the desk. "So it was you who leaked our position at the hospital. And at the docks."
Pride flickers across his face. "Among other things."
Fiona chooses that moment to fuss. The distraction is small, but it's enough. Julian glances down at her for just a fraction of a second.
I lunge for the desk, throwing myself over it. My hand immediately finds the panic button Matteo installed beneath the desktop edge—a silent alarm, connected directly to him and security.
"Get back here now!" Julian roars, but I stay down. I hear Fiona wail, the sound tearing at my heart.
"You can't shoot me," I call out. "Massimo wants me alive."
"I don't need to shoot you. But I can hurt the baby."
"Hurt her, and you're worth nothing to the Caruso."
"How did you find the tunnels?" I ask, buying time .
"I found old blueprints in the estate archives. Been exploring them for months."
Every second he talks is another second closer for help to arrive. I risk peering around the edge of the desk. Julian has moved toward the bookshelf, still holding Fiona and the gun.
"You won't get away with this," I say, slowly rising but keeping the desk between us.
"I already have." He shifts Fiona to his shoulder, using his free hand to pull at something on the bookshelf. A section of it swings outward, revealing a dark opening.
The study door suddenly explodes inward with a thunderous crash.
Matteo stands in the doorway, his face twisted in fury, gun raised. Behind him, I glimpse Nico and several other men, all armed.
Julian backs toward the tunnel entrance. "Stay back or I'll kill her!"
"You're already dead, Julian," Matteo says, his voice terrifyingly calm.
"I have men in the tunnel," Julian warns.
"You mean the men Valentino found ten minutes ago? They will not be joining us."
Confusion flickers across Julian's face. "You're bluffing."
"I've been watching you for weeks," Matteo continues. "The change in your behavior. Your sudden interest in the old wing of the estate. "
"The camera feeds you disabled?" Matteo takes another step. "I had backups installed when you started spending so much time in this wing."
Julian's eyes dart frantically between Matteo and the tunnel entrance. I inch around the desk, my focus entirely on Fiona, waiting for an opening.
"Lower your weapon, Julian," Matteo commands. "It's over."
For a moment, everything hangs in perfect, terrible balance. Then Julian makes his choice.
He swings the gun away from Fiona toward Matteo, and I move.
I cross the distance in three quick steps, driving my right palm up under his extended arm while my left snatches Fiona from his grasp. The gun discharges, the bullet embedding itself in the ceiling as Julian stumbles backward.
Matteo is on him before he can recover. One moment Julian is struggling; the next he's on the floor, Matteo's knee pressing into his chest, gun pressed under his chin.
I turn away, cradling Fiona against me, murmuring soothing words as her cries gradually subside.
"Get him to the warehouse," Matteo tells Valentino. "I want to know everything."
Hours later, I sit in my room. Fiona is finally asleep in her little bed beside me, which I asked to be brought to my room after her illness and despite my exhaustion, I can't sleep .
The door creaks open and Matteo enters quietly. His knuckles are bruised and blood dots his shirt. Our eyes meet, and neither of us speaks.
"Did he talk?" I finally ask.
Matteo nods. "Eventually."
I rise from my chair, moving to stand beside him. "Tell me."
"It's worse than we thought. The Caruso have infiltrated the Commission itself. Three of the nine members are blackmailed or bought. Massimo is planning to assassinate the remaining heads at the next meeting."
"When?"
"The feast of San Gennaro. Tomorrow night. All Commission heads will be there."
"Can't you warn them? Cancel the feast?"
He shakes his head. "If we cancel, we tip our hand. If we warn individual members, word could get back to Massimo."
"So what do we do?"
"The feast goes on as planned. It's our best opportunity to present the evidence and eliminate everyone involved. This ends tomorrow night. One way or another."
Sighing deeply, I make my way to the bathroom and bring back a dampened towel, cleaning the blood from his knuckles .
"This isn't your fault," I say quietly.
"Julian was one of my most trusted men. He was here, with access to you, to Fiona."
"You can't control everyone's choices. Your instincts saved us today."
A noise from the bed interrupts us. Fiona is awake, staggering.
Matteo lifts her gently into his arms. "Hey, little one. You should be sleeping."
Fiona studies his face, then reaches out, patting his cheek with her tiny hand.
"Papa," she says clearly.
I watch as Matteo's expression transforms—shock, followed by something so vulnerable it makes my chest ache.
"She's never said that before," I whisper.
"I'm not—I don't—"
I place my hand on his arm. "It’s okay."
His free arm wraps around me, pulling me against his side. I rest my head on his shoulder, looking down at my daughter sleeping peacefully in the arms of New York’s most dangerous man.
Tomorrow will bring violence and bloodshed. But tonight, we are simply a man, a woman, and a child, finding shelter in each other against the darkness.
And somehow, against all odds, it feels like home.