Chapter 6 - The Strategy of the Safe House
By the third week of October, the apartment above the row house on Passyunk was empty.
Dominic had not asked for her permission; he had simply sent four of his cousins with a moving truck at seven in the morning while Elena was still making Leo’s oatmeal. Within three hours, her clothes, her books, and Leo’s green dinosaur drawings had been transferred to a quiet, three-bedroom brick house located behind the stone walls of the old convent near Girard Estate.
The house was owned by a Bruno holding company; it had steel-reinforced doors, high-security window screens, and a small, private garden where Leo could run across the grass without his mother checking the license plates of every car that slowed down at the corner.
“It’s too big, Dominic,” Elena said, standing in the center of the living room on Friday evening. The room was warm, filled with the scent of fresh paint and the deep, comfortable smell of a real oak wood fire crackling in the hearth. Leo was already upstairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the ceiling as he explored a bedroom that was three times the size of his old closet in the Ward.
“The house is standard for the neighborhood, Elena,” Dominic said, sitting on the edge of the leather sofa with a file of corporate documents in his hands. He was wearing his working uniform—the dark suit, the crisp white shirt—but his tie was loose, his eyes carrying a tired, domestic softness that he only permitted himself when the doors were locked from the inside.
“I can’t pay the rent on this place,” she said, her hands jammed into the pockets of a new, thick wool sweater that Maria had bought for her from the Italian market. “Even with the salary your mother gives me, this is… this is a house for people who don't have to look at the prices on the meat packages.”
“The rent is taken care of by the corporate logistics fund, Elena,” Dominic said, not looking up from his file. “Consider it a security retainer. My father’s health has been stable for two weeks because he doesn't have to listen to the fire sirens on Passyunk. You’re saving me ten thousand dollars a month in private hospital fees. The house is just a line item on the spreadsheet.”
Elena walked over to the sofa, her small shadow falling across the legal pages in his lap. She reached out, her fingers catching the edge of the folder, forcing him to look up into her hazel eyes.
“Stop talking like a lawyer, Dominic,” she said softly. “You didn't move my son here because of a spreadsheet. You moved us here because you knew Jimmy was going to come back with those men from Delaware.”
Dominic let out a slow, heavy breath, his fingers releasing the paper. He stood up, his massive frame towering over her in the firelight, but he didn't step back. He liked the distance between them when it was this small—small enough that he could see the tiny gold flecks in her irises, small enough that he could hear the steady, honest rhythm of her breathing.
“Jimmy is small fry, Elena,” Dominic murmured, his voice dropping into that low, private hum. “The Chester syndicate is the problem. They’ve been trying to find a wedge into our cigarette distribution network along the interstate for two years. Jimmy didn't lose that twenty grand on a football game. He was given the money by a captain named Lou Rossi, specifically so he would come down here and cause a dispute that would require my presence outside the Ward.”
Elena’s face went pale under the firelight. “They used my husband… to get to you?”
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“They used your husband to see if I was soft, Elena,” Dominic said, his green eyes turning into hard, cold stones as his hand settled over hers on the edge of the folder. “They thought that because my father is dying, the family is ready to split. They thought I would let a low-life collector throw his weight around on Tenth Street without a response.”
He stepped closer, his thumb brushing against her wrist where the skin was warm and soft. “But they made a mistake. They thought I was protecting a maid. They didn't realize I was protecting my home.”
