Chapter 5 - The Ledger in the Cellar
By three in the morning, the Costa mansion was on full lockdown.
The outer gates were welded shut, tactical guards were posted every ten feet along the perimeter walls, and the medical team had been brought back under heavy guard to clean Gabriel’s blood work and flush the remaining digitalis from his system.
I sat in the study on the broad leather sofa, wrapped in a plush wool blanket, sipping a cup of hot chamomile tea that Gabriel had personally watched the new chef pour.
Gabriel sat across from me in his leather armchair. He had shed his hospital gown, now wearing a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a clean bandage wrapped around his forearm where the IV had been ripped out.
In his lap sat the thick leather ledger I had seen inside the gun safe.
"Dante wasn't working alone," Gabriel said low, turning a page filled with dates, offshore bank codes, and names written in blue ink. "He took twenty million dollars out of our Chicago distribution accounts over the last four months. He was buying protection from the Valenti family."
I set my teacup down on the glass table. "The family that controls the docks?"
Gabriel looked up at me, his dark eyes sharp and impressed. "You know the neighborhood names?"
"I grew up on 14th Street, Mr. Costa," I said quietly. "You learn who owns the docks before you learn how to read."
A faint, shadowy smile touched the corner of Gabriel’s lips. "Smart girl."
He closed the ledger with a heavy thud.
"Dante promised Victor Valenti my head on a platter by sunrise," Gabriel said, leaning back in his chair, staring at me through the dim lamp light. "With me gone, Dante would take the throne, Valenti would take the docks, and my empire would be split down the middle."
"And now?" I asked softly.
"Now, Dante is locked in my cellar, Victor Valenti is sitting by his phone waiting for a call that will never come, and the entire city thinks I'm dead," Gabriel said.
I froze. "They think you're dead?"
"Dante announced my death to the inner council two hours ago before he came up to my room with that pillow," Gabriel explained, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "The city believes Gabriel Costa died of liver failure at midnight. Every boss in the Midwest is getting ready to carve up my territory like vultures over a corpse."
He stood up, walking slowly across the room until he was standing directly in front of the sofa. He leaned down, placing both hands on the leather armrests on either side of my shoulders, trapping me gently in his shadow.
"Which means I have forty-eight hours to strike back before they realize I'm breathing," Gabriel whispered, his dark eyes burning into mine. "And I need someone by my side who doesn't bleed when things get messy."
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My heart pounded against my ribs. "Mr. Costa... I'm a maid. I clean floors."
"You saved the Don of Chicago," Gabriel murmured, reaching out with his long fingers to gently tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was warm, precise, and dangerously sweet. "You held a loaded gun against my brother’s chest without flinching. You're not a maid anymore, Elena. You're my second."
