Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
Elena didn't waste a single second.
She snapped the laptop shut, grabbed the flash drive and the signet ring, and rushed upstairs. Within three minutes, she had Mateo and Clara dressed in heavy coats, packing two small backpacks with essential clothes.
"Mommy, why are we going on a trip at night?" Clara asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes as Elena zipped up her red jacket.
"It's an adventure, sweetheart," Elena said smoothly, forcing her voice to remain soft and calm despite the roaring adrenaline in her veins. "We're going to play a game where we have to be very quiet, okay? Like little mice."
Mateo looked into his mother’s eyes, his young face unusually solemn. "Is someone coming, Mommy?"
Elena looked at her son, seeing Dominic’s sharp intuition shining through the boy’s dark eyes. She kissed his forehead softly. "Mommy is going to keep you safe, Mateo. Always."
They slipped out the back door of the cottage, stepping into the dark, rain-soaked woods behind the house, heading toward an old station wagon Elena had bought with cash and parked in a hidden gravel turnaround half a mile away.
Twenty minutes later, three black SUVs pulled into the driveway of the empty seaside cottage.
Armed men in heavy coats kicked open the front door, sweeping through the quiet rooms with silenced automatic weapons. Leading them was Salvatore Rossi, the ruthless nephew of Don Lorenzo Rossi—the chief rival family that had been trying to dethrone Dominic Moretti for a decade.
Salvatore walked into the kitchen, placing his gloved hands on the small dining table. He touched the teapot. It was still warm.
"She was just here," Salvatore growled to his men. "Search the woods! Find the woman and the bastards! Don Rossi wants those trust documents, and he wants Moretti's blood!"
While Rossi's men searched the perimeter, Elena was already driving down Route 1 in the blinding rain, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.
She knew her time in hiding was over. The moment Rossi's men targeted her, the invisible shield she had built around her children shattered. Maine was no longer safe. Nowhere was safe—unless she did the one thing she had vowed never to do again.
She needed to invoke the protection of the devil she had fled.
At a gas station phone booth near Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Elena stood in the cold wind, holding the receiver against her ear. She dialed a number she had memorized eight years ago—a private, untraceable satellite line that belonged to only one man.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
On the third ring, a deep, raspy, familiar voice answered. A voice that instantly sent a shiver down Elena’s spine, reopening wounds she had spent seven years trying to heal.
"Speak," Dominic’s voice commanded, sounding colder and more exhausted than she remembered.
Elena took a shaky breath, pressing her hand against the cold glass of the booth.
"Dominic."
The line went completely dead quiet. For five agonizing seconds, there was no sound on the other end except the sharp, ragged intake of breath from a man who sounded as if he had just been struck by lightning.
"Elena?" Dominic whispered, his voice cracking, losing every drop of its usual mafia Don authority. "Elena... my God. Is that you?"
"Listen to me very carefully, Dominic," Elena said, her voice dropping into an icy, unyielding tone. "I don't have time for your regrets or your questions. Lorenzo Rossi’s men found me tonight. They sent a hit team to my home."
"What?!" Dominic’s voice exploded into thunder, the sound of chairs being kicked over and papers scattering echoing through the line in Manhattan. "Where are you?! Are you hurt?! Gabriel, get the jets ready NOW!"
"I am safe for now," Elena cut him off sharply. "But I have two children with me, Dominic. Your children."
Silence slammed over the line again—heavier, darker, and more suffocating than before.
"Children...?" Dominic’s voice shook violently. "You... you were pregnant when you left?"
"I had twins," Elena revealed cold hard truth. "A boy and a girl. They are six years old. And right now, the Rossi family is hunting them because they want the Moretti estate trust papers hidden inside my grandmother's signet ring."
"Where are you?" Dominic begged, his tone entirely stripped of pride, pleading like a desperate man. "Tell me where you are, Elena. I will bring the entire army. I will burn every Rossi alive before I let them lay a finger on you or my children! Please!"
Elena looked back at the station wagon where Mateo and Clara were sleeping peacefully in the backseat under a plaid blanket.
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"Meet me at the old estate in Westchester," Elena said coldly. "The house I left seven years ago. Bring Gabriel, but come alone otherwise. If you try to trap me, or if you bring anyone else, I will disappear forever, and you will never see your heirs."
"I'll be there," Dominic swore, his voice choking with raw emotion. "I swear it on my life, Elena. I'll be there."
