Chapter 19 19.

Chapter 19 19.
Chapter 19:

“Luciano, more clean water!”

The safehouse was a tomb of sweating concrete and rusted iron. The only light came from a single, buzzing bulb overhead that cast long, sickly yellow shadows against the walls.

“You'll be okay.” Elena sobbed, soaking the towel into water.
Elena sat on a crate next to the rusted medical cot, her world reduced to the sound of Salvatore’s shallow breathing.

The blood on her hand had dried in the creases of her knuckles and under her fingernails, turning a dark, crusty brown. Every time Salvatore flinched in his fever, Elena reached out to press the wet towel deeper into the hole in his shoulder.

The heavy steel door at the top of the stairs groaned.

Elena didn't look up, she expected Luciano with more clean water. Instead, the air in the room suddenly turned sharp and cold with the scent of cedarwood and high-end tobacco.

Two sets of footsteps descended the stairs, heavy and full of a terrifying confidence.

Elena stood up, her legs shaking so violently she had to lean against the cot. Two men stepped into the light.

“Dante Romano, nice meeting you.” He looked exactly like Salvatore but older, his features exceedingly stunning. He adjusted his silk cuffs, his eyes scanning the filthy basement with a look of profound boredom.

“Rocco, what do you think of this place?” He asked the man behind him. He has a jagged scar through his eyebrow and eyes that continued hovering over nothing.

“It stinks…and he looks pathetic," Rocco voice grunted in a low growl that vibrated in the small space. He nodded toward the cot.

"The great Salvatore Romano, brought down by a girl and a Russian's cheap theater. Ohh, how our father would have put him out of his misery by now."

"He is a liability," Dante added. “Our liability, Always been.” His voice was smooth, devoid of any brotherly concern. He walked toward the cot, stopping just short of the pool of blood on the floor as if he didn't want to ruin his shoes.

He looked at Elena. "Move away from him, Miss Moretti. You’re getting your dress ruined, and that’s a waste of good Italian silk."

Elena didn't budge instead she stepped in front of Salvatore, her chin tilted up even though her heart was hammering against her ribs. "He saved my life, Mr. fierce face.”

“Where were you when he took a bullet that was meant for me. Where were you when the Volkov estate was burning?"
“And we were trapped, left to die.”

Dante let out a small laugh. "We were where the adults play, Elena. We were balancing the books.”
“But we must tell you,” he continued pointing at Dante. Salvatore didn't save your life; he stole it. And when a Romano steals something that belongs to a Volkov, the bill eventually comes due."
“Like what happened earlier.”

Dante reached into the inner pocket of his charcoal coat and pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. He tossed it onto the small wooden table next to the blood-soaked bandages.

"Do you know what that is?" Dante asked, his blue eyes locking onto hers.

Elena reached for it, her fingers leaving red smears on the expensive paper. She pulled out the document and scanned the headers with her eyes. It has legal seals, the Moretti crest, and the heavy black ink of the Volkov Empire.

"My father," she whispered. Her eyes blurred as she read the words “Contract of Wardship” and “Transfer of Assets”.

"Michael Moretti signed that six months ago," Dante said, beginning to circle a bit. "Your father is a man of many debts, Elena. He’s spent years trying to build a kingdom on money he didn't have. To pay back the Russians for the Siberian oil pipelines, he gave them the only thing he had left of value.

“You, as a bride. Which I'm sure you're aware of.” You’ve been Volkov property since, which left me wondering why he's so easy on Salvatore.

The world felt like it was tilting on its axis. Elena looked down at Salvatore’s pale, unconscious face. “I never heard of the ‘Assets’ part.”
“Did he?” Elena asked, turning her eyes towards Salvatore

"Of course he knew," Rocco chimed in, leaning against a rusted support beam and lighting a cigarette. The smoke curled around his scarred face.

"Why do you think he snatched you? Did you really think he was playing Prince Charming.? He was trying to steal a shipment before it hit the docks. He wanted the oil, Elena. He wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to force Dmitry into a corner.” “And you thought he saved you.

"But he took the bullet," Elena argued, her voice cracking with a desperation she hated. "Why would he die for a shipment? Why would he lie there bleeding out if I’m just a piece of paper?"

"Guilt is a powerful drug, Miss Moretti," Dante said, stepping so close she could smell the peppermint on his breath. "Our brother has always had a soft spot for the things he breaks. But his feelings don't change the law.”

Dmitry Volkov is outside right now with thirty armored SUVs and enough firepower to level this block. He wants his property back. and I am going to give it to him."

"You're going to hand me over?" Elena asked, horror dawning on her. "In the state he's in? He'll kill me! Or worse!"

"Dmitry doesn't want you dead," Dante said, his voice flat. "He wants you compliant.”

“And frankly, the Romano family cannot afford a war with Russia over a woman who was never ours to begin with. Salvatore’s little stunt has already cost us three shipping lanes and half our standing with the Commission in Sicily. We are done losing money for you."

Dante turned to Rocco. "Call the perimeter. Tell Dmitry we're bringing her in. Tell him we want the Siberian accounts unfrozen as soon as the girl is in his car."

"Wait!" Elena shouted.

Her mind was racing as she grabbed the contract, her eyes scanning the bottom of the last page, looking anything that'll save her. And then she saw something written in tiny, cramped script, added as a footnote by her father’s lawyers.

“The transfer of wardship and all associated assets is nullified in the event of a pre-existing union with a Sovereign House of the Commission.”

"A Sovereign House," Elena read aloud, her voice gaining a sudden, sharp edge. "Like the Romanos. This contract is only valid as long as I’m a Moretti."

Dante paused, his hand hovering over his phone. He turned back to her, his eyes narrowing into slits. "That only applies to a legal marriage, Miss Moretti. And as you so loudly and publicly informed the entire world tonight at the gala, you are not engaged to Salvatore. Didn't you?”

"I'm not married to him," Elena said, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard it felt like it would break. She looked at Salvatore now silent.

She looked at Dante and saw the greed in his eyes. He didn't want to give her back to Dmitry. Dante Romano hated giving anything away for free. He just didn't want the risk of a war.

"But I could be married to a Romano," Elena said. She took a step toward Dante, her eyes burning with a cold, desperate fire. She realized she was about to jump from one fire into another, but she refused to be sold of by her father. "Right now. Tonight."

Rocco let out a loud laughter, the smoke from his cigarette puffing out in a cloud. "Who? Him?”

“He’ll be dead before the priest finishes the first prayer. A dead husband doesn't nullify a Volkov contract, sweetheart."

"No," Elena said, her gaze fixed on Dante as his pupils dilated. She saw the calculation happening behind his eyes. "Not him. You."

The room went deathly silent. Even the buzzing of the lightbulb seemed to stop. Rocco’s smirk vanished, his cigarette frozen halfway to his mouth.

Dante stared at her, his head tilting slightly. "You would marry me? Why?”

"You're a businessman, Dante," Elena said, her voice turning hard. "If you hand me to Dmitry, you get peace. But if you marry me, you get the Moretti oil, the Romanos' Sicilian territories, and the legal leverage to destroy the Volkovs'.

“Don't you want an empire?”

Dante didn't move for a long time. He looked at the blood on her hands, then at the unconscious brother at his feet. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face.

"Salvatore was right about one thing," Dante whispered, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "You are far more dangerous than you look.”

Dante turned to Rocco. "Tell Dmitry there’s been a change in plans. Tell him the girl is staying with the Romanos. Permanently. Tell him if he wants her, he’ll have to go through the Commission in Sicily."

"Dante, you're crazy," Rocco growled, stepping forward. "Salvatore will kill you the second he wakes up. He’s been obsessed with this girl for months."

"If he wakes up," Dante said, looking down at his brother with total indifference. "He’ll have to learn to bow to his new sister-in-law."

Dante turned back to Elena and
held out his hand. "Come, Elena. We have a priest to find.”

Elena looked at Salvatore one last time.
“Who knows the cage I'm walking into now.” As she took Dante’s hand, she started at him. .

“I think it's time we play this my way.”

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