Chapter 25 #2
Ciro stood a few meters away beneath one of the security lamps, the yellow light catching the strong lines of his face and casting long shadows across the ground.
His broad shoulders filled the space easily, his posture relaxed but alert.
Two of the guards were just stepping away in the background, disappearing around the side of the house like shadows dissolving into the night.
He waited until they were gone.
Then he approached.
Unhurried.
Hands in his pockets.
Jealousy flickered across his face.
“I spoke with Renzo,” he said, coming to a stop before me. “He told me you’re pregnant.”
My arms wrapped around my middle instinctively, as if I could shield the life inside me from everything—especially the truth of it.
“With Vincenzo’s child,” I said quickly, almost defensively. “But he won’t believe it.”
My voice shook slightly.
“We did the DNA test today. It came back negative.”
My throat tightened painfully.
“He thinks...” I swallowed, forcing the words out. “He thinks Matteo or one of his men violated me. That this is the result.”
A tremor ran through my voice now.
“But I swear to you, Ciro—I was never touched. Not like that.”
Ciro exhaled slowly through his nose, a sound that carried weight rather than relief.
He glanced briefly toward the empty driveway where Vincenzo had disappeared, then returned his gaze to me.
“I honestly wished you weren’t carrying his child. Vincenzo didn’t deserve it—not after everything he put you through... the pain, the agony he caused you.”
I blinked at him, caught off guard by what he said.
He met my gaze directly now.
“Do you intend to keep the child or terminate it?” he added, voice low. “If it’s really for Vincenzo, as you say, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of it.”
“And you might not even realize it—he could go as far as slipping abortion pills into your food.”
My chest tightened.
“No, he wouldn’t... He said he’d accept the child if it’s his.”
Ciro’s expression intensified, rage flashing in his eyes. I could see his fist clench so tightly I could almost hear the tension. “Believe Vincenzo at your own risk,” he growled.
My mind spun. “You think... if he finds out the baby is his, he would really... end it?”
“You don’t understand Vincenzo like I do. He would terminate it. He wants no child—neither from you, nor Violet, nor anyone. And certainly not from you, because you’re a constant reminder of the torment he’s been through.”
My chest caved as panic gripped me.
Vincenzo’s soft promises from the car now felt like a cruel contradiction to Ciro’s warning.
Had he been lying to me the whole time—uttering love while planning to end my child before it even had a chance?
A man like Vincenzo... he could definitely do it.
“There’s something else you need to know.”
Ciro said, cutting off my spiraling thoughts
My stomach tightened
“What?”
“Do you know that Ruslan Baranov has married your sister?”
For a moment—
The world stopped.
No sound. No air. No movement.
Just that name.
Ruslan Baranov.
My chest caved inward as if something had physically struck me, forcing the air from my lungs.
My heart pounded once—hard—then seemed to stall completely.
I stumbled back a step.
My heel caught against the edge of the stone path, and I steadied myself with a sharp inhale.
“Please tell me that’s not true,” I said, my voice barely holding together.
“Please... tell me this is some sick joke.”
The words came out faster now.
Strained. Disbelieving.
“I don’t joke about things like this, Elena.”
The certainty in his voice—
The finality—
Made my stomach twist violently.
“No...” I shook my head, as if I could physically push the words away.
“No. That can’t happen. It’s not possible.”
My sister.
My little sister—Elena Junior—the only soft, untouched thing left from the wreckage of our family.
I had hidden her carefully, buried deep in California—far from everything that marked my past like a stain.
I made sure no one could trace her back to me.
Not Ruslan. Not Vincenzo. Not his enemies.
I had made her believe I was untraceable, that I might already be dead.
Five years ago, I even wrote her a letter, confessing my darkest sins.
I told her everything—the blood on my hands, the sins I couldn’t take back.
I confessed everything to her:
Ruslan Baranov.
My sins against him.
The woman I murdered—Amy Baranov, his sister. His weakness. His heart.
The woman he would burn the world for.
In that letter, I told her the truth.
That Ruslan would never forgive me.
That if he couldn’t find me—
He would come for her.
And now—
He had.
The realization settled in my chest like ice.
“How?” My voice trembled. “How did he locate her?”
“And Ciro... how on earth did you know I had a sister?”
His gaze stayed fixed on mine, steady and unblinking.
“It’s my job,” he said, voice calm but firm, “to know everything about anyone who joins this family.”
A beat.
“Background checks. Family trees. Hidden siblings. Every detail—every connection—ends up on Vincenzo’s desk.”
My stomach twisted.
“He’s been too buried in wars and betrayals to go through it all. The finer details get overlooked.”
The night air suddenly felt too thin.
Tears burned behind my eyes, threatening to spill.
“Ciro...” I whispered, breaking. “I... I need your help.”
The word came out desperate.
My hands trembled as I clutched my own arms tighter, as if I could physically hold myself together.
“I need her far away from Ruslan,” I said, my voice breaking.
“He’s a monster... he’ll ruin her. He’ll make her suffer for everything I did to his sister. She’s innocent—she doesn’t even know any of it.”
Ciro shook his head slowly.
“Ruslan Baranov isn’t just powerful,” he said. “He’s untouchable. His reach goes beyond anything El Chapo ever had—more ruthless than any hunted man alive. If your sister is his wife now... she belongs to him. He’d burn cities to the ground before letting her go.”
The words rang in my skull.
“I’m sorry, Elena. There’s no extraction team in this world that could pull her out.”
My knees weakened slightly.
The ground beneath me felt unstable—like everything I stood on was shifting.
No.
No.
No.
This couldn’t be happening.
Not because of me.
My vision blurred.
Ruslan would break her.
Body. Mind. Soul.
He wouldn’t just take her—he would make her suffer. Slowly. Methodically. for everything I did to his sister.
Vincenzo was already doing the same to me.
Blood for blood.
Pain for pain.
And I—
I would give anything to stop it.
Anything.
“I’d go,” I whispered, the thought slipping out before I could stop it.
Ciro’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I’d go to him myself.”
My voice steadied just a little.
“I’d walk straight into his territory. Let him finish what he started.”
Because if it meant saving her... if it meant she got to live—
I would give myself up to him without hesitation.
“I don’t care what happens to me.”
Ciro studied me for a long moment.
Then—
“Violet knows Ruslan’s hunting you.”
My blood ran cold.
“Violet?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Our latest intel says she’s desperate to contact him,”
Ciro continued. “She’s offering your location in exchange for whatever scraps he’ll give her... or simply to remove you from Vincenzo’s life entirely.
The words settled in slowly.
“Violet will reveal your location sooner or later, and Ruslan will come for you like hell itself. And when he has you... I think he’ll finally let her go.”
My breath hitched, panic clawing up my throat.
“There’s no point turning yourself in to him. Just wait—he’ll come,” Ciro said.
A chill crept down my spine.
There was no reassurance in his voice. No attempt to help.
Only a quiet acceptance... as if my fate had already been decided.
There was no point in continuing the discussion.
With a heavy, aching heart, I turned away without saying another word.
My body moved before my thoughts could catch up—steps automatic, unsteady—carrying me toward the house.
The grand doors stood open, dark and imposing, swallowing me whole as I crossed the entrance.
Inside, the foyer stretched out in silence.
My footsteps echoed against the polished floors.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
Like the air itself was pressing down on me.
I didn’t stop walking.
I climbed the stairs slowly, one step at a time, my hand brushing the railing for balance more out of instinct than need.
The house was quiet, but my thoughts weren’t.
They screamed, overlapped, tangled into something unbearable.
Elena.
My little Elena.
My sister and I share the same name, according to my father’s family tradition.
The name echoed inside my head with every step I took, softer each time—like a prayer I was afraid would go unanswered.
She was the only pure thing left in a life that had already taken too much.
The only piece of my past I hadn’t stained.
I had protected her.
Or at least—I thought I had.
But now—
Now she was connected to something far worse than anything I had ever faced.
Ruslan Baranov.
The name alone was enough to make the air feel thinner.
Ruslan didn’t just destroy. He dismantled.
Like a man who enjoyed watching things break under his hands.
And now—
He had my sister.
My breath hitched slightly as I reached the top of the stairs, my hand tightening on the railing.
He had her.
Chained her to him in a way that had nothing to do with love—and everything to do with me.
Because of what I did to his sister. Because of the blood I spilled.
Guilt clawed at my insides, sharp and relentless, tearing through any attempt I made to hold myself together.
But then—
Beneath the guilt...
There was that fragile hope.
Violet would reveal where I was.
Ruslan would find me.
He would end this. He would take me in place of her.
My throat tightened painfully as I reached my door, my hand hovering over the handle for a moment.
I whispered her name under my breath again.
“Elena...”
Soft. Fragile.
Almost afraid to say it too loudly—as if speaking her name could somehow bring more harm to her.
“My sweet, untouched sister...”
My voice broke slightly.
I pressed my forehead against the door, closing my eyes as a sharp wave of emotion hit me—too much, too fast, too overwhelming to hold back.
What was happening to her right now?
Was she scared?
Was she hurt?
Was she being broken in ways I couldn’t see?
The thought alone made my chest ache.
But if Ruslan didn’t find me in time—
If no one came—
Then I wasn’t sure I could carry this weight much longer.
And that was the most terrifying thought of all.