Chapter 7 - THE HOUSE THAT BETRAYED THEM
They did not return to the estate.
Matteo changed vehicles three times.
Elena lost all sense of direction.
By sunset, they arrived at a smaller property near the Hudson River.
No stone walls.
No visible guards.
Just an old three-story house surrounded by bare trees.
“Whose house is this?”
Elena asked.
“Mine.”
“You own a lot of houses.”
“I have a lot of enemies.”
“That is not the flex you think it is.”
Matteo almost smiled.
Almost.
Sofia slept through the transfer.
Mrs. Kovac had brought only one diaper bag.
Everything else would be replaced.
Nobody trusted objects from the estate now.
Not toys.
Not bottles.
Not blankets.
Not even Sofia’s clothing.
Elena watched men sweep the rooms.
They found no cameras.
No trackers.
No hidden devices.
Still, Matteo remained restless.
His own security had failed twice.
That frightened him more than the people attacking from outside.
At midnight, Elena found him alone in the kitchen.
His jacket was gone.
Sleeves rolled.
A glass of untouched whiskey sat near his hand.
“You don’t drink?”
“Not when Sofia is awake.”
“She’s asleep.”
“Then I’m expecting her to wake.”
Elena opened the refrigerator.
Almost empty.
“Do mafia safe houses not come with groceries?”
“This one has not been used in months.”
“You own a mansion and somehow have no eggs.”
He stared at her.
“Is that your biggest complaint?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“My biggest complaint is being held against my will.”
The softness vanished.
“You are not a prisoner.”
“Can I leave?”
“No.”
“Then we’re using different dictionaries.”
Matteo leaned against the counter.
“If you walk out that door, I cannot guarantee your safety.”
“That still makes the decision mine.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then reached into his pocket.
He placed a phone on the counter.
Elena stared.
“Mine?”
“New device.”
“You confiscated my old one.”
“It may be compromised.”
“Can I call anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Police?”
“Yes.”
That surprised her.
“An attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Can I tell them where I am?”
His jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
“Yes.”
Elena studied him.
“Why?”
“Because you’re right.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You should choose.”
The answer robbed her of anger she had prepared.
Matteo continued.
“If you want to leave, I’ll arrange an armed escort to any location you choose.”
“And after that?”
“My people watch from a distance.”
“For how long?”
“Until I know the threat is gone.”
Elena picked up the phone.
She could call her sister, Marisa.
Could hear a normal voice.
Could leave.
Could try to pretend this nightmare belonged to someone else.
Then a small cry came through the baby monitor.
Elena closed her eyes.
Matteo said nothing.
Another cry.
She hated him for knowing what she would do.
She hated herself more.
“I’m staying tonight.”
His shoulders loosened.
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
“No assumptions beyond that.”
“Understood.”
She turned toward the stairs.
“Elena.”
She looked back.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
He glanced at the monitor.
“For not making me beg.”
She almost told him powerful men deserved to beg sometimes.
Then she saw his face.
He already had.
Just not in words.
By morning, Sofia’s feeding schedule was improving.
Dr. Beck found donor milk from a screened medical bank.
The problem was getting Sofia to accept a bottle without panic.
Elena worked slowly.
No force.
No pressure.
She let the baby smell her first.
Then introduced the bottle while holding Sofia in the same position.
The first attempt failed.
The second ended in screaming.
Matteo stood in the doorway looking as if he wanted to threaten the bottle.
“Stop glaring.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“At an object?”
“Yes.”
“That would be irrational.”
“You are a mafia boss arguing with a pediatric nurse about whether you are intimidating a bottle.”
He looked offended.
Mrs. Kovac laughed.
By the fourth attempt, Sofia took half an ounce.
Elena nearly cried.
Matteo actually did.
One tear.
He turned his face away before anyone could acknowledge it.
Elena pretended not to see.
That afternoon, Anton Markovic arrived.
Matteo’s oldest friend.
Head of security.
Forty-two.
Broad-shouldered.
Scar through one eyebrow.
He entered without a weapon because Matteo demanded it.
Elena watched from the living room.
“You cleared the estate.”
Matteo said.
“Yes.”
“Someone photographed my daughter inside the nursery.”
Anton’s face tightened.
“I know.”
“Who?”
“We are reviewing access.”
“You have had six hours.”
“I need more.”
“You don’t.”
Anton’s jaw hardened.
“Matteo.”
“Elena identified a security breach on my plane before my own people did.”
Anton glanced toward her.
Elena did not look away.
Matteo continued.
“A nurse.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me why I should trust you.”
The question hurt Anton.
That was obvious.
He had known Matteo long enough to consider trust permanent.
Elena had learned permanence was usually a lie.
Anton lowered his voice.
“Because I buried your father with you.”
“Not an answer.”
“I carried you out of Grozny when you were seventeen.”
“Not an answer.”
“I held Sofia before anyone except you and Nadia.”
Matteo’s eyes went cold.
“That makes the question more important.”
Silence.
Anton looked toward Elena.
Then toward Mrs. Kovac.
“Clear the room.”
“No.”
Matteo’s answer was immediate.
“Whatever you say, Elena hears.”
Anton’s expression sharpened.
“You trust her?”
“I trust what she has done.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
“But it is more than I currently have with you.”
Anton flinched.
Then he reached inside his coat slowly.
Every guard in the room tensed.
He pulled out an envelope.
Placed it on the table.
“I found this in my car.”
Matteo opened it.
Photographs spilled out.
Elena recognized Sofia.
The estate.
Matteo.
Herself.
And Anton’s teenage daughter leaving school.
Matteo went still.
Anton spoke quietly.
“They contacted me six weeks ago.”
“You said nothing.”
“They threatened Katya.”
“You said nothing.”
“I thought I could handle it.”
“What did they ask for?”
“Schedules.”
Matteo looked up.
“You gave them schedules.”
“False ones.”
“All of them?”
Anton said nothing.
Matteo’s expression changed.
Elena felt the air in the room become dangerous.
“What did you give them?”
Anton swallowed.
“One real route.”
“Which?”
“The plane.”
Matteo crossed the room so quickly Elena barely saw him move.
He grabbed Anton by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
Guards moved.
Elena did too.
“Matteo!”
He did not hear her.
“You gave them my daughter’s flight.”
Anton’s face reddened.
“I didn’t know Sofia would be on it.”
“You knew I would.”
“Yes.”
“And that makes it better?”
“No.”
Matteo’s fist pulled back.
Elena caught his wrist.
He looked at her.
Rage filled his eyes.
“Move.”
“No.”
“He sold us.”
“He was protecting his daughter.”
“So was I.”
“Then you should understand exactly why he did it.”
Matteo stared at her.
For one second, Elena genuinely believed he might shove her aside.
Instead, his fist slowly lowered.
He released Anton.
Anton coughed.
Matteo stepped back.
“Who contacted you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Voice?”
“Distorted.”
“Messages?”
“Burner numbers.”
“Anything else?”
Anton hesitated.
“One phrase.”
“What?”
“They kept saying the saint would clean up the mess.”
Elena felt Matteo stiffen.
“Viktor.”
Anton nodded.
“Maybe.”
Matteo turned away.
Anton touched his bruised throat.
“There’s more.”
Matteo looked back.
“They gave me proof Katya was being watched.”
“What proof?”
“A live photograph.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Matteo’s expression darkened.
“After you came here?”
Anton nodded.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Elena slowly looked toward the windows.
Only five people knew this location.
Matteo.
Elena.
Mrs. Kovac.
Anton.
And the man currently upstairs with Sofia.
Dr. Beck.
May you like
Elena’s blood turned cold.
She ran.
