The confrontation in the lounge left a bitter taste in Elena's mouth—a mix of copper and jasmine. She retreated to her wing, but she didn't go to sleep. Instead, she watched the door.
In the hierarchy of the Moretti estate, the guards were iron, and the maids were shadows. But shadows see everything.
A soft knock at the door preceded Rosa, a woman in her fifties with weary eyes and hands that smelled of lemon polish. She was the only one who didn't look at Elena like a gilded bird or a scientific anomaly.
"He's gone to the docks," Rosa whispered, setting a tray of ginger tea and dry toast on the nightstand. "The Valli woman stirred up a hornet's nest. He won't be back until dawn."
Elena sat up, her eyes searching Rosa's. "Why are you telling me this?"
Rosa paused, her fingers smoothing the white linen of the tray. "I had a daughter once. She fell for a man with a beautiful suit and a dark heart. I know the look of a woman who is suffocating in a room full of gold."
She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a small, heavy object wrapped in a silk napkin. A keycard. "This opens the service entrance by the laundry chutes. The guards rotate at 3:00 AM. You'll have a four-minute window before the infrared resets."
Elena gripped the keycard, its cold plastic edges biting into her palm. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Rosa said, her voice trembling. "Just run. And don't ever look back. This house devours anything that tries to love it."
The Midnight Run
3:12 AM.
The estate was a labyrinth of silence. Elena moved through the darkened hallways, her heart a frantic percussion against her ribs. Every shadow looked like Dante; every creak of the floorboards sounded like his low, gravelly voice calling her name.
She reached the laundry room. The air was humid, smelling of industrial detergent. She swiped the card. Beep. The light turned green.
She pushed through the heavy steel door and into the biting Chicago night. The rain had turned into a fine, freezing mist. She didn't have a coat, only a dark sweater she had swiped from the closet. She ran toward the perimeter fence, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
She knew the layout from her "interrogation" weeks ago. There was a blind spot near the old carriage house where the ivy grew thick enough to muffle the sound of a climbing body.
Her fingers scrambled against the stone, the rough surface tearing at her skin. She didn't care. She thought of the bakery. She thought of a life where her child wouldn't grow up behind bulletproof glass.
She reached the top of the wall, the wind whipping her hair across her face. Below her was the freedom of the city—the flickering streetlights and the distant roar of the "L" train.
She prepared to jump.
"The drop is twelve feet, Elena."
The voice came from the darkness below, as cold and inevitable as a tombstone.
Elena froze. A spotlight snapped on, blinding her. Standing in the center of the beam was Dante. He wasn't wearing a suit. He was in a black tactical sweater, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He looked tired, but his eyes were predatory.
"In your condition, that jump would be a mistake," he said, his voice devoid of anger, replaced by a terrifying, quiet disappointment.
"I'd rather break my legs than stay here!" she screamed down at him, her voice cracking in the wind.
Dante took a slow drag of his cigarette and flicked it into the wet grass. He walked toward the base of the wall. "You think you're escaping to something. You're just escaping from me. But the Valli family is already watching the bakery. Your brother is currently hiding in a basement because he can't pay the interest on his new debt."
He looked up at her, the light catching the sharp angles of his face. "If you jump, you aren't going home. You're going to a morgue. Is that what you want for my child?"
Elena looked at the city lights, then back at the man who held her world in a stranglehold. The slow burn of her hope was extinguished by the cold reality of his power.
"I hate you," she sobbed, her grip on the ivy slipping.
"I know," Dante replied, reaching up his arms to catch her as she began to fall. "But you're still coming home"