Chapter 154 (Elena's POV)

Chapter 154 (Elena's POV)
The voice on the other end made my heart sink.


"Signora."


Marco.


His voice was exhausted, like someone who hadn't slept in days.


"Boss asked me to tell you—he needs one week."


I gripped the phone.


"In one week, he'll give you his answer."


"What answer?"


Marco paused for a beat.


"Which side he stands on."


The call ended.


The busy signal echoed in the early morning silence, like some countdown bell.


I stared at the call duration on screen—forty-three seconds.


Why was it Marco calling?


If Luca needed a week to decide, he could have simply sent a message himself. Even a single word—"wait"—would have sufficed.


But he had Marco call.


At two in the morning.


Was something wrong with him?


Or did he not want me to hear his voice?


Or—was his current state such that he couldn't even make a phone call?


I instinctively moved to call back, but ultimately set the phone down.


One week. I could wait.




The next morning at eight, Lieutenant Reyes called.


"Ms. Rubino." His tone was strictly professional. "Rico Gutierrez's detention period is almost up."


I set down my coffee cup.


"His lawyer is good," Reyes continued. "The illegal firearms charge—there's a problem with the evidence chain. A small procedural flaw during the search. Defense seized on it. The judge may reduce the felony to a misdemeanor."


"How long can he be held?"


"Two more weeks at most."


Two weeks.


I hung up and took a deep breath.


Sofia was in the warehouse organizing parts. Linh sat in the corner drawing.


I walked over.


"Sofia."


She looked up, saw my expression, and slowly set down the inventory list.


"Rico's getting out soon," I said.


Her face lost all color in one second.


Her lips parted without sound. Then her gaze flew to Linh in the corner—the little girl was coloring a purple butterfly with crayons, noticing nothing.


Sofia's hands began to shake.


From her fingertips, spreading through her entire arms, the inventory paper rustling in her grip.


"No—" Her voice squeezed from deep in her throat, thin as a thread about to snap. "No, he can't get out—if he gets out he'll—"


"Sofia." I took her hands. "Look at me."


Her eyes met mine. Pupils dilated, breathing rapid—I knew this response too well. Fear had overridden reason.


"He won't touch you or Linh," I said. "I won't let him near you."


Her lips trembled, but she nodded.


Once. Very small.


Then her expression shifted—beneath the fear, something was surfacing.


"When he gets out," her voice still shook, but every word was bitten clear, "he won't let Maria go either."


I blinked.


"He knows Maria helped us," Sofia said. "He's not stupid. The first thing he'll do out is go after Maria."


She was right.


I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed Maria's number.


Three rings.


"Elena?" Her voice was soft, carrying that particular caution of someone long suppressed.


"Maria, Rico's getting out soon. Two weeks at most."


A second of silence on the other end.


I could hear her breathing quicken—short, shallow, like a rabbit backed into a corner.


"Don't be afraid, Maria. I'm coming to you now," I said. "I'll verify whether the gambling evidence you collected on Rico is sufficient. If it is, I have a way to protect you."


She answered quickly: "It's enough, it's enough, please come."


I hung up, grabbed my motorcycle keys, and ran for the door.


Sofia followed: "I want to go with you!"


I froze.


"I… I've always wanted to meet her," she bit her lip. "And punishing Rico—I want to be part of it too."


I pulled her close and got her on the bike.


"Then let's go together!"




The safe house was in an unremarkable apartment building in the North Side. Third floor, two bedrooms, windows fitted with ballistic film.


When Maria opened the door, her belly had begun to show.


Her color was better than last time—at least no longer that fragile pallor that looked ready to shatter. The shadows under her eyes had faded, lips held a trace of color.


Seeing Sofia behind me, she froze.


One was Rico's ex-wife. The other, Rico's current wife.


By any soap opera's logic, they should be hostile.


But Sofia spoke first.


"Are you okay?" she asked, gaze falling with compassion on Maria's slight bump.


Maria lowered her head, palm covering her belly.


"Okay," she said softly. "The baby's being good."


Sofia walked over and gently took Maria's hand.


"I know that feeling," she said. "Carrying a child, not knowing what tomorrow brings."


Maria looked at her, lips trembling.


Then she smiled.


Very slight, very small, but real.


"Thank you for coming to see me," she said.


I stood in the doorway, watching them.


Two women hurt by the same man, hand in hand, standing in a safe house.


Sunlight filtered through the ballistic film, casting soft dappled light across them.


"All right, ladies." I clapped my hands. "Time for business."


Maria quickly ushered us in.


"Maria." I sat on the sofa. "The gambling evidence on Rico—how much did you collect?"


She released Sofia's hand, went to the bedroom, and dragged a shoebox from under the bed.


Opened it.


Inside: a stack of photos, several handwritten IOUs, and a USB drive.


"Casino IOUs, nine of them." She took them out one by one. "The largest is thirty thousand dollars, Lucky Star casino. His signature and fingerprint on it."


She pulled out photos.


"These are him at the casino. With different people—several are outsiders that Ferrante explicitly forbids contact with."


"Good," I said. "Put seriously, this could even be—betrayal of the family."


Her eyes lit up.


"Here's my plan," I said. "Before he gets out, we deliver this evidence to the Ferrante family."


Maria's breath caught.


"You know Ferrante's house rules better than I do," I continued. "Once they learn Rico's been gambling outside, racking up debts, possibly leaking family secrets—how do they handle it?"


"…Break his limbs," Maria's voice was very small. "Then expel him from the family."


"Exactly." I nodded. "A Rico expelled from Ferrante is a dog without teeth. No family protection, no connections, no muscle. At that point—"


I looked at Sofia.


"However you want to deal with him, you can."


Sofia's eyes lit up instantly—she understood.


"Yes!"


Maria hadn't caught on yet, looking at me blankly.


"The best way to deal with a shadow," I said, "is to stamp it out yourself—trade his life for your child's life."


Maria's face went white, lips trembling.


Considering she was pregnant, this was perhaps too bloody.


I began: "If you don't want to—"


"No!" She cut me off, palm pressing her belly. "For this child, I'll do it. I don't want him born into fear!"


I smiled.


"Good girl. All right, let's work out the details—"


Maria's phone suddenly rang.


The ringtone exploded in the quiet room. Everyone jumped.


She glanced at the screen, eyes going wide with shock, and looked up at me.


"It's Giulia. She never calls me."


My heart leapt into my throat.


Giulia.


The night of the gunfight, I'd entrusted her to Luca's people. After that everything was chaos—my injury, the hospital, returning to Chicago. I'd never managed to contact her.


I didn't even know where she was. Was she safe? Had Ferrante discovered her betrayal?


This call—


Good news or bad?


Maria looked at me, phone still ringing.


The caller ID flashed on screen.


"Answer it," I ordered.