Chapter Seven : Secrets In The Dark

Chapter Seven : Secrets In The Dark
Chapter Seven: Secrets in the Dark

Elena’s POV

The note felt like it was burning in my hands.

“You don’t belong here. Leave before it’s too late.”

Someone in this house wanted me gone.

And Lorenzo—he knew something.

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. He stood in the doorway, his face unreadable, but I caught the way his eyes flicked toward the note before settling back on me.

“You’re not going to say anything?” I demanded.

“Elena.” His voice was calm, too calm. “It’s late. Get some rest.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s all you have to say? Someone broke into my room and left a threat, and you want me to sleep?”

He exhaled sharply, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

“Elena, listen to me.” His voice lowered, edged with something I couldn’t place. “This house—my family—it’s dangerous. You already know that. But you can’t go looking for trouble.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not looking for trouble. Trouble is looking for me.” I held up the note. “Someone left this here, Lorenzo. Someone wants me out. And I want to know who.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then, to my frustration, he reached forward, plucked the note from my hands, and tore it in half.

My breath caught. “What the hell—”

“You didn’t see anything,” he said coldly.

I stepped back. “Are you serious?”

His dark eyes locked onto mine, intense, unwavering. “Yes.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “So, that’s it? Just pretend it didn’t happen? You think I’m stupid, Lorenzo?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I think you’re smart. And if you’re smart, you’ll do as I say.”

There was something in his voice—a warning, laced with something deeper.

Fear.

Not for himself.

For me.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Lorenzo… who’s after me?”

His expression darkened. “You don’t want that answer.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

Because the way he said it—like he wasn’t protecting them from me.

He was protecting me from them.

I barely slept that night.

Every sound, every creak in the floorboards, sent my pulse racing. The idea that someone had entered my room without me knowing, had been close enough to touch my things—it unsettled me in a way I couldn’t shake.

By morning, I had made a decision.

I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

Lorenzo clearly wasn’t going to tell me the truth, which meant I had to find it myself.

At breakfast, the atmosphere was stiff.

Lorenzo’s father, Don Ricardo, sat at the head of the table, drinking his coffee like he owned the world. His wife, Bianca, barely spared me a glance, while Valentina smirked every time I looked her way.

Sofia was the only one who seemed remotely on my side, but even she looked wary.

I sat next to Lorenzo, my back straight, my mind racing.

I needed to figure out who left that note.

And I had a feeling the answer was sitting at this very table.

“So, Elena,” Don Ricardo said suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the silence. “How are you adjusting?”

I forced a smile. “As well as can be expected.”

Valentina snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

My grip on my fork tightened.

Lorenzo shot her a warning glance, but she just sipped her tea, clearly enjoying herself.

“You know,” Bianca said, her voice smooth and cool, “being part of this family means knowing when to mind your own business.” She stirred her coffee leisurely, not looking at me. “It’s an important lesson to learn.”

I held her gaze. “And what happens to people who don’t learn?”

Silence.

Then she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“They disappear.”

A chill ran through me.

Lorenzo placed a firm hand on my knee under the table, a silent warning.

I swallowed hard, pretending to take another bite of my food.

Message received.

Loud and clear.

After breakfast, I pulled Sofia aside in the hallway.

She looked surprised but didn’t resist when I led her into an empty sitting room and shut the door.

“Elena, what—”

“Do you know who left the note?” I cut in.

Her eyes widened. “What note?”

I hesitated. Maybe she really didn’t know.

I exhaled, rubbing my temples. “Last night, someone came into my room and left a note telling me to leave before it’s too late.”

Sofia’s face paled. “Oh my God.”

“Do you know anything?” I pressed.

She hesitated, biting her lip. “No. But I do know that not everyone in this house wants you here.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, I got that impression.”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “You’re Lorenzo’s wife now, but that doesn’t mean they see you as family. And Valentina—she hates that you’re here.”

I frowned. “Why?”

Sofia hesitated, then sighed. “Because before you, there was someone else. Someone Lorenzo was supposed to marry.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?”

She nodded. “Her name was Isabella. She was from a powerful mafia family, and their marriage was supposed to strengthen an alliance. But at the last minute, Lorenzo refused. He chose you instead.”

I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Lorenzo chose me?

That didn’t make sense. This marriage wasn’t supposed to be a choice—it was a deal, an arrangement.

So why had he turned down Isabella?

Before I could ask more, Sofia grabbed my hand.

“Elena, listen to me,” she said urgently. “I don’t know who left that note, but I do know this—if someone is warning you, it’s because they think something bad is coming.”

I swallowed hard. “And what if they’re right?”

She squeezed my hand. “Then you need to decide—are you going to run? Or are you going to fight?”

I took a shaky breath.

There was only one answer.

I was done running.

That night, as I got ready for bed, I couldn’t shake the unease in my gut.

Lorenzo hadn’t spoken much since breakfast. It was like he was keeping something from me, something big.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door, half-expecting another note to appear.

But instead, there was a knock.

I stood cautiously. “Who is it?”

Lorenzo’s voice came from the other side. “Open the door, Elena.”

I hesitated before unlocking it.

He stepped inside, shutting it behind him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—there was something dark in them.

“I need you to listen carefully,” he said quietly.

My pulse quickened. “What’s going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “There’s something I should have told you before.”

A lump formed in my throat. “What is it?”

He met my gaze, and for the first time, I saw something close to guilt in his eyes.

“Isabella isn’t gone,” he said.

My stomach dropped.

“She’s back.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

He took a step closer, his voice low. “And she wants revenge.”

A cold chill ran through me.

Before I could respond, a loud crash echoed from downstairs.

Lorenzo’s eyes snapped toward the door.

Then—gunfire.

And just like that, the house descended into chaos.