Chapter 5 Marco #2
A few minutes later, I return to the grand salon. My eyes immediately find Elena, and she smiles before walking directly over to me.
"Did you enjoy the show today?" she asks with a coy smile that makes something tighten in my chest.
My brows furrow. "You were watching me today, weren't you?" she continues, stepping closer until I can smell her perfume—floral and feminine that doesn't match her tough-girl act at all.
She leans in close enough that her breath brushes my ear. "I liked it."
"Like the show you put on at the cafe yesterday?" I question, but she doesn't respond. Instead, she winks and walks away, her hips swaying in a way that draws my attention despite my better judgment.
I shake myself out of the trance and walk toward the kitchen, where Dante immediately approaches and bumps my shoulder.
"What was that about?" he asks with a knowing smirk. There's no point pretending I don't know what he means—Dante has that uncanny ability to read people better than almost anyone.
"Nothing," I say curtly, hoping he'll drop it.
"It didn't look like nothing, my friend. It looked like you were pissed off and she was smiling because she got under your skin," he observes with annoying accuracy.
"How perceptive of you," I reply while pouring myself a drink.
He chuckles and clinks his glass against mine. "To women who keep us on our toes," he says, glancing over at Sofia with obvious adoration. Sofia is the missing piece he never knew he needed, and I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at her.
I take another sip and pat him on the back before walking away. One thing is becoming crystal clear: I need to get much closer to our resident escape artist. Tomorrow is going to bring some significant changes to how I handle the Elena situation.
We all settle around the family-style dining table for what's become a Saturday morning ritual.
Rina started these weekend brunches months ago—her way of bringing the family closer together, of creating something normal in the middle of our very abnormal lives.
The long wooden table has rounded edges and is set with beautiful place settings and fresh flowers.
Wine carafes and family-style platters cover every available surface.
The aroma is incredible. The chef has truly outdone himself today.
As usual, the men gravitate toward one end to discuss business while the women cluster at the other end, giggling about God knows what. Probably talking about us if I'm being honest. Rina's vision of family bonding has its limits—old habits die hard in this world.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs draws everyone's attention.
Vito appears first, looking distinctly satisfied with himself.
His shirt is slightly wrinkled and his hair isn't quite as perfectly styled as it was earlier.
Rina follows a few steps behind with flushed cheeks and a glow that has nothing to do with the lighting.
She's trying to look composed but the freshly-applied lipstick and the way she's adjusting her dress give away exactly what delayed their appearance. A few knowing smirks pass between the men at our end of the table. Sofia rolls her eyes but she's smiling.
"Sorry we're late," Rina says breezily as she takes her seat. "We were... discussing some things."
"I'm sure you were," Gianna mutters into her wine glass.
Vito doesn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. He just settles into his chair at the head of the table like a king surveying his kingdom. Which I suppose he is.
Once they're seated, the conversation resumes its natural flow.
I've been watching Elena like a stalker all morning though.
She's definitely up to something significant and I have a growing feeling it's much bigger than Vito originally thought.
He assumed she's being secretive because she wants privacy.
Because she doesn't want to feel constantly monitored.
But I know there's something else driving her behavior.
Something connected to her father's situation.
Elena glances in my direction, picks up her wine glass, and winks at me before taking a sip. She knows I've been staring—glaring, really—at her all morning.
"I met a guy," Elena announces loudly enough for me to hear clearly, which immediately triggers excited screeches from Sofia, Rina, and Gianna. They clap their hands and demand details like they're still teenagers gossiping about crushes.
"I met him at my most favorite bar," she continues, taking another sip of wine. Then she deliberately licks her lips, knowing full well that I'm listening and watching every move she makes.
"He was so handsome," she says, and I feel my jaw tighten. "Dark hair, these intense green eyes that seemed to see right through everything. He had that quiet confidence—you know the type. The kind of man who doesn't need to prove anything because everyone already knows what he's capable of."
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair. She's not talking about Tony or any of my guys. She's talking about me. And she knows I know it.
"We shared a moment over drinks," she continues, her eyes sparkling with mischief even as she keeps her gaze fixed on Sofia.
"He was watching me so intently. Made me feel.
.. noticed. Then when some other guy thought he could insult me, he got so serious about defending my honor. Like he couldn't help himself."
She snaps her fingers. "Left quite an impression. The kind of man who knows what he wants but won't let himself take it. Such a shame really."
Vito's eyebrow raises as he looks at me. He knows exactly who she's describing.
"Maybe we'll meet again," Elena adds with an innocent smile that doesn't fool anyone at this end of the table. "Hopefully soon. I'd love to continue our... conversation."
"Oh my God, Elena!" Rina leans forward with excitement. "You got me all worked up for a second. I thought you'd actually gone on a date or something. That would be amazing—you never go out with anyone."
Elena's eyes lock onto mine. A slow smile spreads across her face. "Who says it wasn't a date? Maybe he just doesn't know it yet."
She mimics my posture perfectly—arms crossed, leaning back—except when she does it the position pushes up her breasts and draws attention to her cleavage. She holds my gaze while maintaining this pose. I have to fight every instinct not to react.
Vito's watching this entire exchange with an expression I can’t quite discern. The bastard is probably enjoying my discomfort way too much.
"Why is your face so tight, Marco?" Sofia asks, looking back and forth between Elena and me. Gianna is smiling too but doesn't comment. "You were listening very intently to Elena's story."
"I found it interesting," I reply with what I hope is casual indifference.
"Interesting?" Dante interjects. "You've got better things to do than babysit. Watching over Elena might actually be worse than dealing with Sofia's rebellious streak."
He laughs, and I send him a warning glare. Fucking asshole. Sofia smirks at Dante's comment, then stands and walks to our end of the table.
"You love my rebellion. It gets you hard," she whispers before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
She returns to her seat, and Dante visibly adjusts himself in his chair. "Fuck me," he mutters under his breath, though everyone at this end of the table can hear him.
"Wait, you've been watching me?" Elena asks, feigning surprise as if she doesn't already know the answer. This is all a carefully orchestrated performance, and she's proving to be an excellent actress. The concern on her face doesn't fool Vito, and I'm certainly not falling for her fake outrage.
"We have everyone on high alert right now, and we need to make sure our family is protected, Elena," Vito explains in his authoritative Don voice.
"Don't you think that's something I should have known about?" She leans forward and raises her voice slightly—not enough to be disrespectful to our Don, but enough to convey her supposed anger.
"We didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. Everything is fine for now, so please stop ditching your detail," Vito responds with a knowing smirk, clearly seeing through her act as well.
Elena rolls her eyes and mumbles, "You guys are no fun."
The rest of the meal proceeds relatively calmly. Vito gently chastises Dante for revealing that Elena is being followed, though he's not particularly upset since he already knew she was aware of the surveillance.
After brunch winds down, the women migrate to the living room.
Rina pulls out some home decor magazines and Elena settles in beside her on the couch.
They spend the next few hours going through color schemes and flower arrangements while Sofia offers increasingly sarcastic commentary about the ridiculousness of spending fifty thousand dollars on centerpieces.
I stay longer than necessary. Tell myself it's because Vito and I need to discuss business. But really I'm just watching Elena laugh at something Rina said, her head thrown back and her whole face lighting up in a way I've never seen before.
This is the Elena most people know. The one who's warm and supportive with her cousins. The one who doesn't meet sketchy contacts in dive bars or call herself someone's whore to provoke a reaction.
Around six o'clock, Elena hugs Rina goodbye and heads out. I wait exactly ninety seconds before following.
Tony's supposed to have her evening shift but I don't trust him not to lose her again.
So I tail her myself as she catches a cab back to her apartment in Brooklyn.
The drive takes forty minutes in Saturday evening traffic.
She stops once—at a bodega on her corner where she buys wine and what looks like ingredients for dinner.
By the time she disappears into her building, it's nearly seven-thirty. I park down the street with a clear view of the entrance. Watch the lights come on in her third-floor window. She moves around her apartment for a while. I can see her silhouette occasionally passing by the window.
At nine o'clock she's still there. The TV flickers blue light across her living room. She seems settled for the night.
I pull out my phone and call Lorenzo—one of my more competent guys.
"I need you to take over surveillance on Elena's building," I tell him when he answers. "Watch all exits. If she so much as steps outside for a cigarette, I want to know about it."
"Yes sir. I'll be there in twenty."
I stay until Lorenzo arrives and positions himself across the street. Then I finally head home, my mind still churning through everything from today.
Elena's hiding something. Multiple somethings probably. And tomorrow I'm going to start getting real answers instead of just watching her play games.