Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Elara’s POV

The air in the mansion had turned thick.

Dante was spending more time at the docks, and Lorenzo was a ghost. That left me alone with Isabella.

I was in the conservatory, staring at a row of orchids, when I heard the click of her heels.

"You look far too comfortable, Elara," Isabella said.

I turned slowly. She was leaning against the doorframe, a glass of wine in her hand.

"It’s my home, Isabella," I said.

"Is it?" She laughed, taking a step toward me. "This house belongs to the Moretti Syndicate. And the Syndicate is a machine. If you aren't a gear that turns, you’re scrap metal. I’ve been a part of that machine since I was sixteen. You? You’re a temporary malfunction."

I reached into the pocket of my cardigan, my thumb finding the side button of the burner phone Lorenzo had given me. I pressed it.

Record.

"What are you saying, Isabella?" I asked, keeping my voice small and shaky. "That you’re part of his business?"

"I am the business," she snapped. "The Rossis provide the shipping lanes. The Morettis provide the muscle. It’s an alliance that has existed for decades. Your little 'accident' at the warehouse? That was a message to Dante. A reminder that he can't go rogue and pick a wife from the streets."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "You knew about the Petrovs. You knew they were coming for me."

"I didn't stop them," she shrugged, taking a sip of wine.

"Why would I? You were supposed to die that night. It would have been so much cleaner. But you’re like a cockroach, aren't you? You just keep crawling back into his bed."

"Dante would kill you if he knew you let his child die," I said, my voice getting colder.

Isabella stepped into my personal space. She was taller than me, and she used it to loom over me. "Dante will never know. Because by the time I’m done with you, he’ll be convinced you orchestrated the whole thing to get out of the contract. And as for the next one? The one you’re trying so hard to conceive?"

She reached out and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at her. Her fingernails dug into my skin.

"If you manage to get pregnant again, Elara, that baby will never see the light of day. I will make sure of it. I’ve handled 'complications' before. Don't think for a second that I won't do it again. I want that heir to be mine. A Rossi-Moretti bloodline. You’re just the disposable packaging."

"You’re a monster," I whispered.

"I'm a realist," she shot back. She released my chin with a jerk. "Stay out of the basement. Stay out of the office. And stay out of my way. If you don't, the next 'accident' won't be a warehouse. It’ll be a funeral."

She turned on her heel and walked out. I waited until the sound of her heels faded before I pulled the phone out. I stopped the recording and saved it to the cloud. My heart was thudding, but my hands were steady.

I had her.

Later that evening, I sat in the dining room with Dante.

Isabella was across from us, laughing at a joke Dante hadn't even finished making.

She was back to being the perfect socialite, the loyal ally.

"Is something wrong, Isabella?" Dante asked, his voice flat.

"Nothing at all, darling," she said, reaching for his hand. "I was just telling Elara how much I enjoyed our chat in the conservatory."

Dante looked at me. I kept my eyes on my plate, pretending to be intimidated. I let a small, visible shiver escape my shoulders.

"You seem tense, Elara," Dante said.

"I'm just tired," I said softly.

Dante looked back at Isabella. He pulled his hand away from hers to pick up his wine glass.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time here lately, Isabella. Don't you have shipments to oversee at the Rossi docks?"

Isabella’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "My father is handling them. I wanted to make sure Elara was settled. She’s been through so much."

"I can handle my wife’s recovery," Dante said. The coldness in his tone was unmistakable. "I don't need a consultant."

The rest of the dinner was silent. The tension was palpable.

After dinner, I found Lorenzo in the hallway near the library.

"I found something," he whispered. "The basement manifest you copied? I tracked the serial numbers. They aren't just shipping electronics. They’re moving Caldera components."

"Caldera?" I asked. "The chemical company?"

"The ones who make the prostaglandins," Lorenzo said, his face grim. "The same drug they used on you in the warehouse. The Rossis have a major stake in Caldera. Isabella didn't just 'know' about the Petrovs, Elara. She provided the weapon."

"She killed her own partner's child for a business merger."

"She’s more dangerous than we thought," Lorenzo said.

"She’s not just working with the Syndicate. She’s trying to take it over from the inside. If Dante finds out, he’ll burn the whole city down."

"He needs to find out," I said. I pulled out the burner phone. "I have the recording where dhe admitted everything. The warehouse, the threat to the next baby, all of it."

Lorenzo looked at the phone, then at me. "Not yet. If you give this to him now, he might kill her, but he’ll still keep you here. He’ll lock you in a cage to 'protect' the next heir. We need to wait until the escape plan is ready.

We need to use this to destroy her and give you the window to disappear."

"How long?" I asked.

"Friday," Lorenzo said. "The bridge. I’ve already secured the car. Sloane is ready to wipe the feeds. Just hold on for three more days."

"I don't know if I can," I said. "She’s looking for a reason to kill me now."

"Then give her one," Lorenzo said. "Keep her focused on you, keep her angry. If she’s busy trying to scare you, she won't see me moving the money."

I nodded.

Isabella was the enemy in the light, Dante was the monster in the dark and I was the ghost caught between them, and by Friday, I would be gone.

"Be careful, Elara," Lorenzo said, squeezing my hand.

"I'm done being careful," I said. "I'm ready to be dangerous."