Chapter 3 - The Unseen Enemy
The tension in the study didn't dissipate; it merely shifted shape. Vincent walked past her toward the tall arched window overlooking the courtyard, where two of his armed guards patrolled the perimeter with Dobermans straining against heavy leather leashes.
"The leak isn't inside my home," Vincent said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "It's higher up. In the council. Someone thinks because Elena is gone, the Moretti family is vulnerable. They think the wolf is old, and the pack can be divided."
"And what does that have to do with me?" Elise asked, keeping a safe distance from him.
Vincent turned back to face her, his dark eyes softening just a fraction—a terrifyingly human vulnerability flashing beneath the armor. "It means my enemies are watching this house. They know the girls are my only weakness. By extension, anyone who holds their laughter holds my attention. That makes you a target, Elise."
Elise swallowed hard, the reality of her situation crashing down around her. She wasn't just working for a wealthy businessman; she had stepped directly into the crosshairs of an ongoing mob war. "If I'm a target, maybe I should leave. Maybe I should resign."
"And go where?" Vincent stepped closer, his gaze pinning her in place. "The moment you walk out those gates, my rivals will pick you up off the street within ten minutes to find out everything you know about my household. You are safer inside these walls than anywhere else in the city."
Before Elise could argue, a sharp, frantic knock echoed at the study door.
Without waiting for permission, Rocco burst into the room, his face pale and sweating beneath his heavy brow. "Boss, we got a problem at the downtown warehouse on 4th Street. The loading bay just took a hit."
Vincent’s entire demeanor transformed in a fraction of a second. The brooding father vanished, replaced instantly by Il Lupo—cold, calculating, and lethal.
"Who?" Vincent demanded, his voice like cracking ice.
"The Marcone family," Rocco spat, pulling a heavy Glock from his shoulder holster and checking the magazine. "They didn't just hit the cargo. They left a message. Burned the office to the ground. And they left a token for you."
Vincent’s eyes locked onto Rocco. "What kind of token?"
"A silver bullet with your daughter's initials carved into the lead," Rocco said grimly.
The air in the room seemed to vanish. Vincent’s face went completely blank, but the muscles in his jaw tightened so hard Elise thought bone would snap. Without a word, he turned back to his desk, opened a locked bottom drawer, and pulled out a custom Sig Sauer pistol, sliding it smoothly into his shoulder holster beneath his vest.
"Lock down the estate," Vincent ordered, his voice vibrating with suppressed fury. "Double the perimeter guards. No one enters, and no one leaves—especially not the children."
He brushed past Elise toward the door, his long stride eating up the distance. But as he reached the threshold, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
"Elise," he said sharply.
"Yes?" she breathed.
May you like
"Stay with Maisie and Rosie. Don't leave the east wing. If anyone tries to get in who isn't me or Rocco, you use the panic room behind the master bookshelf. The code is 0314."
Before she could ask what 0314 meant, Vincent and Rocco vanished down the hallway, the sound of their heavy boots fading into the echoing silence of the massive estate.
