23. Elena
Chapter twenty-three
Elena
I can’t sleep. It’s been two days since I found out that I’m carrying the child of a monster. And now, that monster is a wanted, high-profile murderer.
Tears run down my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my fingers clenching around the edges of the vanity chair. Is this it? Is this how the story ends? How my story ends?
The high and mighty businesswoman, pregnant by her former bodyguard? A mafia don who built his empire on the ruins of ours? Someone who murdered a—
I let out a humorless chuckle at the thought. Even Enzo suspects foul play. According to him, Adriano isn’t foolish enough to shoot a high-profile prosecutor. He has too much at stake to be that reckless…especially in broad daylight. And maybe Enzo is right.
But in the past few days, there’s been this noise in my head where silence should be. Staying away from Adriano was supposed to bring peace. Instead, everything feels louder.
I’m standing at a crossroads where I can’t tell what’s real anymore. If he managed to get that close to me, look me in the eyes, and fuck me—all while plotting my family’s downfall—then I don’t know what else he’s capable of.
A knock jars me out of my thoughts, and I quickly wipe my tears, already knowing who it is. Enzo.
“Still feeling sick?” That’s the first thing he says when he pokes his head through my door, holding Puddles, who whines and wags his tail.
I don’t turn; instead, I stare at him through the mirror, afraid he might catch my reddened eyes.
“You know how it is,” I say, forcing a dry laugh. “It’s just stress from work. Plotting campaigns and all that.”
With a single crutch under his other arm, he steps—limps—in now, shutting the door softly behind him as he leans against the doorway.
“Are you sure, Elena?” He breathes deeply. “I mean, whatever it is that is bothering you, apart from business, you need to eat. You’ve barely eaten all day. Damn it, you barely ate yesterday, either.”
I shoot him a smile. “Of course, Enzo. I’ll be down in a minute.”
I hold my breath when it looks like he wants to press further, but release it when he gives a steep nod and leaves the room.
Enzo has enough on his plate already—worrying how to get the mafia back on its feet—since it is now broke. I shouldn’t be part of his worries. Not especially when I’d told him my part in telling Adriano about Silvio, and he’d simply said it wasn’t my fault.
My hands instinctively find my hair, grasping at the strands as if pulling hard might make all of this anguish vanish.
Yet, despite it all, I’m still wondering where Adriano is and what he’s doing now.
Shit, I’m so fucked. No, stupid. What do I even do now?
Go back to New Jersey and what? Start a life with the baby?
And does Adriano even want this? Does he want his enemy’s daughter carrying his heir?
I drop my hand to my tummy, smoothing my palm over the flat surface of my stomach. For a split second, I think of my sister, Bella. She’d told me all about how she was in this situation before and—
I shake my head. I can’t just call her and info dump… at least not right now.
A sigh escapes my lips. I still don’t know how to chart this course… but I do know that a life’s growing inside me, and I should take responsibility for that.
Just as I move to get up, my phone rings. As I pick it up, I see it’s Annora.
“Hey, what’s up?” she chimes, sounding like she hasn’t been completely off the grid for days.
“Where’ve you been, Annora? You had me worried.”
“Training,” she sighs. I know she’s lying, but with everything exploding in my life, I don’t exactly have the bandwidth to push. “Plus don’t be dramatic. I shot you a text letting you know how busy I’d be. And you, madam, didn’t respond.”
My breath hitches. She’s right. I’d seen her text but was in no mood to respond.
“Something is bothering you, I know. Mind sharing? Wait—how is your hot bodyguard?”
As she continues to bombard me with questions, I realize that there are a lot of things I haven’t filled her in on yet.
“I’ll call you later and tell you all about it.” Saying it would only make me feel worse, so I steer the conversation and we have a mini chat about other stuff before I end the call.
When my phone screen lights up again, I see a notification from the mayor. It’s a reminder that the themed event the mayor’s wife is hosting is today!
Good afternoon, Miss Rossi. Just a friendly reminder of tonight’s themed event at my private residence on 84th Street. My wife and I are looking forward to your presence.
I contemplate not going, mostly because he made an appearance on national TV, vowing to bring Adriano to justice without doing any real due diligence. After all, I was Adriano’s client—he worked for my family.
And the irony cuts deep right now. I'm actually giving the benefit of the doubt to the one man who screwed me over, both literally and figuratively!
Yet, the business-driven side of me overshadows my thoughts. He’s reaching out to the CEO of Elané, not the daughter of the Rossis. This is what I’ve always wanted. The recognition…the legitimacy. I shouldn’t let anything get in the way of that, not even myself.
Plus, I need this anyway. It’s a good escape from all this mess in my life. With that, I freshen up, and in no time, I’m dressed in a tailored emerald-green sheath dress, conservative enough to be respectful but sophisticated enough to command attention.
Paired with nude pumps and a small, beaded clutch, I make my way out of my room. Enzo’s not in sight, but I know when he hears news of my departure, he’ll rejoice that I’m finally out of my room.
There are two guards when I get to the garage—a veteran who survived the whole massacre and a new recruit whose name refuses to stick. And Peter, who luckily evaded the tragedy because he took a leave to care for his sick father.
“Mayor’s residence on 84th,” I say as Peter and the recruit guard jump into the car, but not before holding the door open for me.
The journey is long and silent, but eventually we arrive at the mayor’s fortress, with tall, meticulously manicured hedges acting as walls. High-level security details patrol the vast perimeter, contrasting sharply with the beautiful floral arrangements decorating the entire space.
I’m still taking in the serenity of the estate when a young aide approaches with a practiced smile. “Miss Rossi. Right this way. The mayor is expecting you.”
We pass through the large oak doors, the smell of wood polish, starched linen, and something faintly floral hitting my nose. Music, people in elegant attire, and walls of dark panels frame the foyer, which opens up to a sweeping staircase.
Soft classical music drowns out the sound of my heels against the parquet floor as I trail behind the aide, taking in portraits of stern-looking men lined up on the wall of the staircase.
The mayor and his wife are probably upstairs receiving guests.
We arrive at a door, and for some reason, anxiety starts to seep into my gut. The aide knocks twice, then swings the door open for me. Inside is a formal dining room, the table set exclusively for two with expensive cutlery and wine.
Mayor Alex Thompson rises from his seat in a well-tailored suit, flashing me the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on him.
“Elena, so glad you could make it. You look radiant.”
I shoot him a smile of my own, eyes darting involuntarily around the room for his wife. Why are there only two chairs, and where’s his wife?
“Mr. Mayor,” I say, walking until I’m only a few feet from him. “Thank you for the invitation. Where’s your wife? I looked forward to seeing her again.”
Something briefly flashes in his eyes. “Ah, a last-minute migraine, I’m afraid. She’s absolutely devastated. After taking her medication, she had to rest for a while and insisted we carry on without her.”
An odd sensation creeps down my spine as he nudges me to take a seat. Somehow I don’t want to.
“That’s a shame.” My tone maintains a steady cadence as I sit. “I would have really loved to have her here. Perhaps we could reschedule for when she’s feeling better?”
His smile tightens. “Nonsense. She absolutely hates being a party stopper.”
I swallow, then nod as he takes his own seat.
“It’s unfortunate what has happened to Adriano Bellandini. Killing the prosecutor, a supposed mafia don,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I know he worked for your family. Tell me, did you guys ever suspect he’d do something so rash?”
I let my smile drop. This isn’t what his wife would want him to say, I’m sure.
“I’d prefer we don’t speak about that.”
He shrugs, pulling the cork from the wine bottle and then pouring the contents into both glasses. “Just thought I’d give you the early privilege, you know. The feds will be calling you soon, so it’s best you say all you know now. Where’s he hiding?”
The dread in my stomach deepens as he pushes the glass of wine toward me. This isn’t why I came here.
“Indeed. He used to be my bodyguard, but people don’t wear their intentions on their face, Mr. Mayor. As I’m sure a man of your intellect understands.” Then I stand, flashing a practiced smile of my own. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling a bit unwell myself. I think I should leave.”
I turn toward the door and take a step when his voice stops me cold. “I’m afraid you can’t.”
I spin around, catching his dead gaze. He’s no longer smiling. The casual act he put on was gone, replaced by something completely demonic.
“Sit down, Elena,” he growls in a cold, menacing tone. The one he’s probably used to order raids or sign death warrants in. My father used it, Enzo… Adriano. It’s the tone of a man who doesn’t take no for an answer.
My breathing shallows.
“I’m leaving,” I repeat firmly, although my voice sounds thinner now.
“The doors are locked. My security has been instructed that you’re to remain my guest… indefinitely.” He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. Tension snaps the air tight as he gazes at me intently.
“Your wife isn’t sick, is she? W-Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” He barks a dry laugh. “You see, Elena, you’re leverage. Extraordinarily beautiful, well-connected leverage. I have… unfinished business with Adriano, but to get to him I have to use you.”
The ice in my veins spreads, cracking through my chest as I struggle to put two and two together. Adriano never worked for the mayor. Or did he?
Why the fuck does everyone think they can use me as leverage?
“Don’t bother working that pretty little head, darling,” he smiles mockingly, the patronizing nickname making me wince.
“Adriano doesn’t care about me. Whatever your plan is, it won’t work.”
Fear claws at my throat the longer he keeps silent. Almost immediately, the door opens, and two armed guards march inside to stand on either side of me.
“Leave that to me.” He tilts his head, something sinister swirling in his eyes. “For now, let the men escort you to a room. Save your energy, my dear. If Adriano does the right thing, you won’t be here for long.”
Instinct kicks in and I try to fight, grabbing the nearest heavy vase and throwing it at one of the guards. He dodges it just as the second guard lurches forward to grab me. I sidestep, running toward the entrance, but two more guards step out, blocking me in my tracks.
“Don’t be a fool, Elena. Cooperate, and no one gets hurt.”