Chapter 17 17.

Chapter 17 17.


“Mum, is that you?”
Elena stood frozen, the heavy key Luciano had given her biting into her palm.

The woman in front of Elena tilted her head, her finger twitching on the trigger of the silver pistol.
Taking a closer look at the woman she had a striking resemblance with Elena.

"Who are you?" Elena’s voice asked in a whisper. Her legs trembled as she took slow steps forward. “Please. I've been looking for you. I've been... I've been so lost.”

The woman just smiled, with an expression that didn't reach her eyes.

"Elena!"

The heavy iron door at the top of the stairs slammed open letting Salvatore burst in. His tuxedo jacket was gone, and his white shirt was soaked through with red on his side.

"Elena, get away from her!" he shouted after her, his voice raw and filled with a terror she had never heard from him.

Elena spun around, her eyes wide. "Salvatore? What are you—"

"Get back!" he screamed, lunging down the stairs, ignoring the way his wound let out a fresh spurt of blood.

But Venna was right behind him in her peach dress, her heels clicking on the metal stairs. She wasn't smiling anymore.

"Kill her!" Venna shrieked at the woman on the crate. "Do it now! Michael’s orders!"

Elena looked back at the woman she thought was her mother. In a split second, the “woman's" face changed. The sadness in her face vanished and her trembling stopped. With a robotic, terrifying speed, the woman lowered the gun from her own head and snapped it toward Elena’s chest.

"Michael sends his regards, little bird," the woman whispered.

Elena’s heart stopped for a second paralysing her sensory neurones. She couldn't even breathe. She just stared into the black hole of the barrel.

Bang!

The sound was deafening in the small stone room. Elena felt a spray of something hot and wet hit her face. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain, waiting for the dark.

But it didn't come.

Instead, she felt a heavy weight slam into her, knocking her to the floor. She hit the damp concrete hard, the air leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp.

She opened her eyes and met a gory sight.
“Salvatore!” Her subconscious mind screamed.

He was draped over her, gasping for breath. And that moment Elena took a very good look at him. He's well manicured beards and his light piercing green eyes. His well structured arms revealed muscular folds.

Tears trickled down as she looked down and saw the new hole in his shoulder, right above his heart. His blood was hot and dark, pouring out over her black dress.

"Salvatore?" she whispered, her hands flying to his face. "No. No, no, no."

“No!, no please don't do this to me.” she sobbed, her grip tightening as salvatore fell to the floor.

"Got you," he rasped, a tiny, bloody smirk touching his lips. "I... I got you."

"You stupid man!" Elena sobbed, her fingers frantically trying to cover the wound. "Why did you do that?

I don't deserve this, no I don't!.” She shouted, her tears trickling down her cheeks and dropping on Salvatore.

"I told you," he choked out, his eyes starting to lose their focus. "You... you belong to me. Nobody else gets to... to break you."

Up on the stairs, Venna was screaming. "You ruined it! Salvatore. You were supposed to let her die! You were supposed to come back to me!"

“No! I can't let another woman take you!. You belong to me alone!” She shaked her head revealing a gun.

Venna raised her own gun, her eyes wild with a madness. "If you want to die for her, Salvatore, then die!"

But before she could pull the trigger, a dark shadow appeared behind her. Luciano.

Without saying a word. He just gripped Venna’s arm and twisted it until the gun clattered to the floor. He threw her against the stone wall, his face cold and carefree.

"Boss!" Luciano shouted, looking down at the wreckage of the room.

Then the woman on the crate tried to raise her gun again, but she was too slow. Salvatore, even as he lay dying on top of Elena, managed to pull his own weapon from his waistband.

Crack. Crack.

Two shots. The woman fell back into the shadows, the silver pistol clattering away.

Silence fell over the boiler room, broken only by the steady, rhythmic ‘hiss’ of the steam pipes and the sound of Elena’s ragged sobbing.

"Salvatore, stay with me," Elena cried, pulling him into her lap. At that very moment her body and soul thought of nothing else.

“I don't care about the tattoo anymore…I don't care if you have a girlfriend. Please, Salvatore!” As she furiously pressed her hand on the affected area she felt the heat of his blood on her hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about the stage, and the toast, and—"

"I knew," Salvatore whispered, his voice fading to a thread. "I knew Venna was... his spy. I let her stay... to find where they kept the girl. I didn't want you to see... this."

"The girl?" Elena asked, her tears blurring her vision.

"The double," he coughed, a spray of red hitting his chin. "Your father... he wanted a daughter he could control. He’s been... he’s been trying to replace you for years. Venna was supposed to... to lead you here so the swap could happen."

You knew about this and you let me come—

“I let you come because I knew I could protect you, I never bargained for this, moreover I got this information not over 30 minutes since we stepped in.”

Elena looked at the dead woman who looked just like her.
“The recording I heard, is it true?” Did you plan this all along—-

"Salvatore, please," she begged, pressing her forehead against his. "Don't leave me here. I can't do this alone."

"You... you're a Romano now," he whispered, his hand reaching up to touch her cheek, leaving a smear of red. "You don't... answer to anyone. Remember?"

His hand slid down, his eyes closing.

"Salvatore!" Elena screamed, the sound echoing through the pipes.

Suddenly, the speakers in the ceiling crackled. Dmitry’s voice came through, but he sounded bored, as if he were watching a movie he’d already seen.

"What a tragic ending," Dmitry said. "The hero dies, the bride is broken, and the house is still standing. But I think it’s time to close the curtains.”

“Well, I think it's time to resign your father's contract…what do you think, huh?”
“Who would have thought Salvatore will fall for my trap.’
“You belong to me Elena—”

The rumble in the floor started again. The pressure gauges on the walls began to spin.

"The boilers, Miss Moretti," Luciano yelled from the stairs, dragging a struggling Venna by the hair. "We don't have much time before the whole wing goes up! We have to move!"

Elena looked at Salvatore’s pale face then at the blood on her hands. “I hardly know who I am anymore.” She muttered to herself.

She grabbed the key Luciano had given her.
“Mrs. Romano, the key!”

The key could be their only hope for a heavy box tucked behind the main boiler— it could be the real Black Box her mother had spent years on.

"Help me!" Elena shouted at Luciano. "Help me carry him!"

"He’s too heavy, Elena! You’ll both die!"

"I am not leaving him!" she screamed back, her voice shaking the room.

Luciano looked at her, seeing the fire in her eyes, and he finally nodded. He threw Venna to the ground and ran down the stairs. Together, they grabbed Salvatore, his body a dead weight between them.

They dragged him toward the coal chute as the pipes began to explode around them, showering the room in scalding water.

Elena didn't look back and neither did luciano. They didn't look at Venna, who was screaming for help as the steam filled the room. She just kept her eyes on Salvatore’s face, praying for a breath, praying for a sign that the monster wasn't gone.

“Please help me, save me!”

They reached the chute just as the main boiler groaned, the metal buckling like paper.

"Go!" Luciano pushed her into the dark.

Elena slid down the cold, metal tunnel, clutching Salvatore’s shirt, the roar of the explosion following t
hem.

When they finally left the building the cold Moscow air bit at her skin, but she didn't feel it. She just pulled Salvatore’s head into her lap, staring at the burning ruins of the Volkov estate.

"Wake up," she whispered into the freezing wind. "Wake up, Salvatore. I love you!."

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