Chapter 7 Emilio #2
"No, they won't." I manage a small smile despite the danger. "The security feed has a five-minute delay, and I can wipe it remotely. I designed the system myself."
I tap my watch, activating the program I have ready.
The service entrance opens into a back alley where my black Audi waits, engine running thanks to the remote starter I triggered.
Mara slides into the passenger seat without hesitation, no arguing about coming with me, no attempt to leave on her own.
Whatever she saw convinced her that staying with me is her best chance of survival.
For now.
I drive away calmly despite the adrenaline rush. No squealing tires, no speeding, nothing to attract attention. Just another expensive car in a city full of them.
"Where are we going?" she asks once we're in traffic, her voice steady despite everything.
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere not even my family knows about."
She turns, surprised. "You keep secrets from the Rosettis?"
"Only the ones that matter." I glance at her briefly before focusing back on the road. "Only you."
The admission feels heavier than I meant it to.
All this tracking, systems built just to find one woman, and I've never told my family the full extent.
Never revealed how much I've invested in finding her.
Never admitted I bypassed family security protocols to keep my private surveillance network running.
"They'll check all known Rosetti properties," she says after a moment, back to business. "Safe houses, warehouses, apartments."
"This isn't a Rosetti property." I take a quick right, cutting through side streets to make sure we're not followed. "It's mine. Bought through a shell corporation with no ties to family or business."
Her eyebrows lift. "You've been planning for this."
"I've been planning for everything." I speed through the yellow light, putting space between us and Il Lusso. "Thought of every situation, prepared for every possibility. Including getting you out of danger."
"Extract me," she repeats, her tone hard to read. "Like a military operation."
"That's what this is, isn't it? A war zone. With you caught in the middle."
She doesn't reply, but the silence speaks for itself. We drive in that quiet for minutes, her eyes on the side mirror, watching for anyone following while I steer us toward our destination.
"Your car could be compromised," she finally says, "Phone. Watch."
"Already taken care of." I tap the dashboard where a small device blinks green. "Signal jammer. Nothing gets in or out unless I let it. We're off the grid until we reach the safe house."
She nods, a flicker of respect on her face. She always valued competence. One of the things that brought us together, mutual respect for skill, careful planning, seeing ten steps ahead when most see just two.
"Callahans are planning something," she says after more silence. "Something big. That's what tonight's meeting was about."
I don't ask how she knows or why she's sharing this now. Don't question this unexpected help after so much back-and-forth. "Tell me."
"Arms shipment coming through Red Hook. Military grade. More firepower than a usual mob war needs." She rubs her temples, looking suddenly tired. "Chase isn't just trying to hurt your family. He wants to wipe you out completely. Make a statement no one in New York will forget."
I'll pass that on to Dom and Sal.
"Why tell me this?" I ask, truly curious. "If you're working for Chase—"
"I never said I was working for Chase," she interrupts, her voice sharp. "I said it's complicated."
"Complicated enough that Callahan men were about to grab you tonight? Complicated enough that you're running instead of explaining yourself to them?"
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't deny it. "I'm telling you because people will die if that shipment comes in. Innocent people, not just Rosettis and Callahans."
"Since when do you care about innocent lives?" The question comes out harsher than I meant, full of bitter, unanswered questions. "You left without a word, Mara. Vanished like you never existed. If you cared about anyone but yourself—"
"You don't know anything about why I left," she snaps, eyes blazing with sudden anger. "You think because you can watch me through cameras, you know me? You know what I've been through? What I've had to do?"
The raw emotion in her voice silences me for a moment. This isn't her usual calculated act. This is real, breaking through the careful facade she's kept since coming back to New York.
"Then tell me," I say, softer now. "Help me understand."
She turns away, looking at the city lights blurring past. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?" I ask again, echoing our earlier exchange.
"Both." The word sounds torn from her, ragged and reluctant. "There are things you're better off not knowing, Emilio. Safer not knowing."
"I decide what risks are worth taking. Not you."
She laughs, a short, bitter sound with no humor. "That's always been your problem. You think you can control everything. Information, systems, people." She glances at me, pity flickering in her expression. "Some things can't be controlled, no matter how many plans you make."
Her words hit closer to home than she knows.
I've spent so long building systems to track her, analyze her movements, predict her steps.
Yet she still manages to surprise me, stay ahead at crucial moments.
Even tonight, her revelation about the Callahan arms shipment wasn't in any intelligence reports.
She still has information I don't, access I haven't duplicated.
We drive in silence for several minutes, her eyes glued to the side mirror, checking for anyone following us while I steer toward our destination.
"Why is Chase targeting you?" she finally asks. "Why target you specifically? Why not Domenico or Rafaele?"
A good question, one I've thought about a lot. "Because I'm the one who knows everything. Every Rosetti operation, security measure, financial route. Take me out, and the family loses its eyes and ears. Its defenses."
"Its Ghost," she murmurs.
"Exactly."
We fall into quiet thoughts as I drive through Manhattan's streets, eventually turning onto Central Park West. Her presence next to me feels unreal after so long tracking her through digital means.
Her scent fills the car, sharper than I remember, with metallic hints showing how much she's changed. How much we both have.
I sneak glances at her profile, lit by passing store lights. Her sharp bob frames her face, highlighting her cheekbones and determined jaw. Different from the woman who left my bed, yet somehow more captivating for the strength she's gained. For the secrets I can see weighing on her.
A sense of possessiveness flows through me, a dark satisfaction that after all this time, all the chasing across continents, she's finally here. In my car. Under my protection. Where I can see her without screens, keep track of her without algorithms and cameras. Keep her.
I reach across the console, not quite touching her but close enough that she can feel the warmth of my hand near her thigh. A message without words: I see you. I've always seen you. And I've finally caught you.