Chapter 2
The silence that followed Lorenzo’s declaration was heavier than the crystal chandelier overhead. Elena lowered her hand from her chest, her fingers trembling as she smoothed the rich velvet of her dress. She refused to back down, though her eyes darted nervously toward the hallway behind her, where shadows lengthened in the late afternoon sun. Lorenzo remained planted in front of her, his tall frame cutting off her escape route. The grey suit jacket he wore felt suddenly restrictive, the wool tight across his broad shoulders as adrenaline surged through his veins.
"Save me?" Lorenzo repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. It was a cold sound that lacked any real humor. "By slipping something into my evening glass? What kind of twisted salvation is that, Elena? Poison disguised as protection?"
"It wasn't poison," Elena hissed back, her voice dropping to a fierce, urgent whisper so as not to startle the little girl still hovering near the base of the marble table. "It was a sedative, Lorenzo. Just enough to keep you from walking into that warehouse tonight. Just enough to keep you alive while the federal agents raid the docks."
Lorenzo froze. The words hit him like a physical blow. The raid on the south-side docks was a secret known only to him and his most trusted inner circle. How could Elena, who spent her days managing charity galas and tending to domestic affairs, possibly know about a federal operation scheduled for midnight? His dark eyes narrowed further, the suspicion in his gaze hardening into absolute ice.
"Who told you about the docks?" he demanded, stepping closer until he could smell the faint scent of gardenia perfume that always accompanied her.
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"That doesn't matter," Elena replied, her voice breaking slightly. "What matters is that they are waiting for you, Lorenzo. The entire syndicate has been compromised from the top. The man you call your brother, Marcus, sold you out to the district attorney three days ago. I intercepted the ledger yesterday in his study."
Mia let out a soft whimper, sensing the danger radiating from the adults. She crouched down, picking up a stray ribbon that had fallen from her hair. Lorenzo looked down at the child for a split second, a flicker of paternal guilt softening his harsh features. But the business of survival left little room for sentimentality. If Marcus had betrayed him, then the entire foundation of his empire was built on quicksand. He reached out, his calloused hand gripping Elena’s bare shoulder, his fingers pressing into her skin just enough to demand total honesty.
