Chapter 2
Marco
I walk down the hall to the elevator and hit the down button, my mind already shifting into tactical mode.
The conversation with Vito replays in my head as I step inside and swipe my key card.
Floor ninety-six—my sanctuary, my solitude.
The only place in this building where I can think without the constant hum of activity that surrounds Vito's penthouse.
Getting off the elevator, I take a deep breath, finding immediate comfort in the silence of my home.
There's no chaos here like upstairs—no constant stream of people coming and going, no phones ringing every five minutes, no urgent conversations bleeding through the walls.
This space is mine, peaceful and controlled.
I head down the hall past the kitchen to my office and grab the laptop from my desk.
The weight of this new assignment settles on my shoulders as I carry it to my bedroom, setting it on the bedside table for later review.
Right now, I need to process what just happened, and I can't do that effectively while staring at a screen.
It's been a long day filled with the usual territorial disputes and business negotiations that come with being Vito's right hand. My body craves the hot spray of a shower and the oblivion of sleep.
After a shower that's not nearly long enough to wash away the tension, I sit on the edge of my bed in just a towel and contemplate whether to dive into researching Elena now or wait until tomorrow when I've had the sleep I desperately need.
The smart play would be to wait. A tired mind makes careless mistakes, and I can't afford to be careless when it comes to Elena Messina.
But I've looked into her before—when Rina was in danger, we needed to know everyone in her orbit.
We discovered that Elena knew Liam from his visits to see his brother Finn at college, the same university Elena and Rina attended.
Then I looked into her again when Sofia's situation escalated and we needed all hands on deck.
Since it's been about a month since I last ran a background check on her, I decide to at least get the ball rolling. I pull the laptop onto my lap and start typing, getting her information loaded into our system and hitting enter.
Elena fucking Messina.
Even thinking her name sends something dark and possessive through my chest. She's a dark-haired, sinful beauty with mystery swimming in those caramel eyes of hers.
There's something about her that's always pulled at me—the way she carries herself like she's not afraid of anything, the way she looks at our world like she sees right through all the carefully constructed facades.
What have you been up to, little fox?
The nickname comes to me unbidden, but it fits. She's clever, quick to adapt, and has a way of slipping through situations that would trap anyone else. If she's playing a game that could hurt this family, I need to know what it is and how deep it goes.
But as I stare at the loading screen, I can't shake the feeling that this assignment is going to change everything.
Elena has always been off-limits—Rina's cousin, family by association, too complicated.
But now Vito's basically ordering me to get close to her, to watch her every move, to insert myself into her daily life.
The irony isn't lost on me. For months, I've been keeping my distance from Elena, telling myself it's for all the right reasons. Now I have a direct order to do exactly what I've been fighting against.
I've noticed Elena since the first day Rina brought her around. Hard not to notice a woman who looks like she could either save your soul or damn it, depending on her mood.
She's beautiful, obviously, but it's more than that.
There's an intelligence in her eyes that most people miss, a sharpness that suggests she's always thinking three moves ahead.
She doesn't simper or defer like a lot of women in our world do.
When Elena looks at you, you get the distinct impression she's seeing straight through to your core.
It's unnerving as hell, and I've made it my business to avoid being on the receiving end of that particular look.
Until now.
Now I'm going to be spending my days figuring out what makes Elena tick, what secrets she's hiding, what game she might be playing.
I'm going to be close enough to smell her perfume, to hear the way her voice changes when she's lying, to watch the way she moves when she thinks no one's paying attention.
The background check finishes loading, and I scan through the familiar information.
Twenty-three years old. No listed employment, though I know she did some work for RRE.
Lives alone in a modest apartment about fifteen minutes from here.
Her finances are interesting—bills paid regularly from what appears to be a trust fund, minimal credit card usage, no significant purchases or red flags.
On paper, Elena looks exactly like what she appears to be: a young woman living a quiet life under the protection of one of the most powerful families in New York.
But papers don't tell you about the fire in someone's eyes or the way they move through a room like they're cataloging every exit and potential weapon.
I close the laptop and lean back against the headboard, my mind already working through the logistics of this assignment.
Watching Elena isn't going to be like surveilling a typical target.
She knows our world, knows our people, knows how protection details operate.
If she's been slipping past her current security, it's because she's smart enough to exploit their weaknesses.
The challenge of it appeals to me more than it should. Elena thinks she can outmaneuver Vito's men? We'll see about that.
The smart thing would be to request a different assignment. Tell Vito I'm too valuable doing other things, that someone else could handle one woman. But I know without even considering it that I'm not going to do that.
Maybe it's professional pride—the knowledge that I'm the best at what I do, and if anyone can figure out Elena's secrets, it's me. Maybe it's curiosity about what she's really up to. Or maybe it's something else entirely, something I'm not ready to examine too closely.
What I do know is that starting tomorrow, Elena Messina's carefully controlled world is about to collide with mine. She's been playing whatever game this is by her rules, in her territory, with her advantages.
That's about to change.
I've spent twenty years learning how to read people, how to anticipate their moves, how to stay ten steps ahead of anyone who might pose a threat to this family. Elena may be smart, may be resourceful, may even be dangerous in ways we haven't discovered yet.
But she's never been hunted by someone like me.
I settle back into bed, but sleep feels impossible now. My mind is already racing ahead to tomorrow, planning approaches and contingencies, thinking through the best ways to get close to her without tipping my hand.
The assignment is supposed to be about protecting the family, about discovering whether Elena poses a threat to everything we've built. But as I lie here in the dark, I can't shake the feeling that the real danger isn't what Elena might do to us.
It's what getting close to her might do to me.