Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Penthouse
Two weeks passed before I was strong enough to stand without my knees buckling. During that time, the bunker became my whole world. Gabriel visited every single night at precisely midnight, long after the rest of the household had gone to sleep. He never brought guards. He brought fresh soup prepared by his personal chef, clean silk clothing that cost more than six months of my maid salary, and once, a small drawing made of blue and gray crayon: a stick figure with a golden halo holding a little boy’s hand.
Leo had drawn it. I kept it tucked beneath my pillow like a talisman.
On the fifteenth night, the heavy blast doors clicked open, revealing Gabriel dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. He tossed a black cashmere coat onto the foot of my bed.
"Put it on," he commanded softly. "We're moving you."
"Upstairs?" I asked, my heart doing a nervous dance.
"No. The estate is compromised until the rat shows his teeth," he said, stepping forward to carefully help me slide my arms into the coat, mindful of my healing shoulder. His hands lingered on my waist for a fraction of a second, his touch burning through the soft fabric. "We're going to the Manhattan penthouse. Only four men know the code to that elevator, and all four will die if they breathe your name."
We left through an underground tunnel that led to an abandoned warehouse half a mile down the river, slipping into the back of an armored Maybach with tinted glass. Gabriel didn't let go of my hand the entire drive. Whenever the car took a sharp turn and my ribs flared with dull pain, his grip tightened, grounding me.
The penthouse was an empire made of glass and dark marble, towering eighty stories above the glittering skyline of Manhattan. It was cold, opulent, and completely devoid of warmth—except for the small boy sitting on the living room sofa clutching a wooden locomotive.
When Leo saw me walk through the foyer, his big brown eyes went wide. He dropped the train, scrambled off the sofa, and sprinted toward me.
"Elena!"
"Careful, Leo," Gabriel warned with sharp authority, but there was no bite in it. "She is still hurt."
Leo skidded to a halt an inch from my knees, looking up at me with tears spilling over his cheeks. He reached out with trembling little fingers, gently touching the hem of my cashmere coat as if checking to see if I were real.
"You didn't go to heaven?" he whispered, his lip quivering.
I sank onto one knee, ignoring the dull ache in my back, and wrapped my good arm around his tiny shoulders. "No, buddy. I told you I wasn't going anywhere. Remember? Choo-choo."
Leo buried his face in my neck, his small arms locking around my collarbone just like he had on the floor of the sunroom while bullets chewed the air above us. "Daddy said an angel caught the bad things. He said you were sleeping."
"I was just taking a long nap," I whispered, smoothing his hair while looking up at Gabriel.
The ruthless Don was watching us, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched tight to fight back an emotion that threatened to break through his iron armor. For a man who ruled by fear, watching his son hold onto me was the one thing that completely disarmed him.
"Mrs. Gable was let go yesterday," Gabriel announced abruptly, breaking the silence. "Her bank records showed a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit the morning before the attack. The woman who claimed to be sick had sold the perimeter maintenance schedule."
My breath caught. "Mrs. Gable? She worked for you for ten years!"
"Greed makes cowards bold," Gabriel replied with lethal chill. "She gave us a name before she was retired. It was my cousin, Marco. The head of our logistics routes. He believes that without Leo, the succession passes directly to his branch of the family."
"Then why haven't you arrested him?"
Gabriel walked over, standing directly behind where Leo and I were kneeling, his shadow enveloping both of us. "Because in our world, you do not simply shoot a high-ranking captain on suspicion. You humiliate him. You expose him in front of the commission, and you take everything he owns so no one ever dares to look at my family with hunger again."
He looked down at me, his eyes gleaming with dark intent.
"Tomorrow night is the annual Rossi Foundation Gala at the Plaza Hotel. Marco will be there, celebrating what he believes is my impending collapse. But I'm going to introduce him to my new reality."
"What reality?" I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.
May you like
Gabriel extended his hand, pulling me gently to my feet while keeping Leo tucked at my hip.
"Tomorrow night, Elena, you cease to be a ghost. You step onto that ballroom floor wearing my family diamonds, on my arm, as my fiancée."
