Chapter 4Nine Years of Silence

Two days later, I signed the last handover document at DeLuca headquarters.

From that moment on, I was no longer their advisor, and I was no longer responsible for any accounts, routes, or secrets.

Just as the elevator doors were closing, Cecilia stepped in, heels clicking. She ran a hand over her belly, not bothering to hide her smile. "You saw the report, didn't you? Nine years of hiding with Matteo, and he never gave you a child, let alone a Family ring. It's time to let go. Think of it as payback for my leg."

I looked at her. "You really think that explosion is going to protect you forever?"

Her expression shifted. She opened her mouth to respond, but a muffled boom rolled through the entire building.

The elevator shuddered violently and the lights went out. Thick smoke poured in through the vents, the reek of gasoline so acrid I could barely keep my eyes open.

The DeLuca Family had recently dealt with a contractor who'd defaulted on pier debts. The man's brother had slipped in during a security shift change and hurled Molotov cocktails into the underground garage. The fire had raced up the pipes and jammed the private elevator between floors.

Cecilia screamed and pressed herself into the corner. I hit the emergency call button but heard nothing except crackling static. My phone had no signal inside the smoke-filled elevator, so I fumbled an encrypted phone out of her bag.

I dialed Matteo's number.

He picked up almost instantly.

"Cecilia?" His voice was bright with warmth. "I've been waiting for you downstairs. What's taking so long?"

My heart clenched anyway.

Even after I'd decided to leave, nine years of habit still lived in my body.

"It's me." I choked back a cough. "The private elevator is trapped by the fire. Cecilia and I are both inside."

"Elena?" His voice turned urgent. "Don't be afraid. Tell me what floor. I'm coming with a team right now."

The smoke grew thicker. The metal ceiling panel was scorching hot. Cecilia cried out, clutching her belly. I pressed my jacket over the vent and dragged her to the corner farthest from the heat.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

My vision blurred. My chest felt like it was packed with burning sand.

When the cutting tool finally pried the elevator doors open, I heard Matteo roar from outside. "Get Cecilia out first! She's pregnant!"

The Family doctor and enforcers carried her out immediately.

I slumped against the elevator wall, too weak to walk. By the time the second group dragged me out, the lobby was chaos. Through the haze, I saw Matteo on one knee, clutching Cecilia, who didn't have a scratch on her.

"Don't be scared. I'm here. The baby's going to be fine. Whoever did this, I'll make their whole family disappear from New York."

He held her so tight, as if they were the only two people left in the world.

He didn't let go of Cecilia until he saw me being dragged out. Then he flinched as if burned and staggered toward me. "Elena, I'm sorry. I thought you'd had training, that you could last longer than her. Cecilia's pregnant, and she saved your life once. You don't mind, right?"

I stared into his eyes and used every ounce of strength I had left to shake off his hand.

"Matteo, your love is filthy."

My voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human. "So filthy it makes me sick."

His whole body went rigid. For the first time, real panic showed on his face.

He reached for me again, as though holding me could somehow prove something. But the phone clipped to my waist slipped free and smashed onto the marble floor.

The screen lit up, a ticket confirmation filling the display.

Your flight has been confirmed. Destination: Geneva.

Matteo's body locked up. His eyes fixed on the screen.

"You're going to Geneva?"

"Matteo, my stomach hurts." Cecilia suddenly clutched her belly and slowly sagged to the floor, her toe kicking my phone neatly into the shadows.

Matteo spun around, scooped her up, and rushed toward the first ambulance without looking back.

At that moment, a sharp, twisting pain tore through my own lower belly.

I looked down and saw blood slowly spreading across my skirt. Then everything went black.

When I woke, the Family doctor told me I'd been pregnant.

The excessive smoke inhalation, combined with the delay in getting oxygen and stopping the bleeding, meant the baby didn't survive.

I'd been lying in the hospital room for a full day before Matteo finally rushed through the door.

"Elena, I'm sorry. Cecilia had abdominal pain yesterday, and the doctor thought she might be having a miscarriage. I couldn't leave her." He sat down by the bed, eyes red, and tried to take my hand. "I know this is unfair to you, but she's pregnant, and she's your own sister. You've always been the stronger one. Can't you just cut her some slack?"

He paused, as if offering me the ultimate promise. "That pregnancy was an accident. My body and my heart will always belong to you."

I pulled my hand away and stared at the white ceiling.

My heart had been hollowed out so completely that I couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

After Matteo left, I contacted the account manager in Geneva. Over the past few days, I'd liquidated every investment I had in New York and separated every joint fund I shared with Matteo, one by one.

My share went to Europe. Every last cent of his was wired back to the DeLuca Family accounts.

On the final transfer, I wrote just one line in the memo.

"Nine years settled. We owe each other nothing."