Chapter 5 - The Unseen Betrayal
For two agonizing hours, Elena sat on the leather sofa inside the underground bunker, holding Mia in her lap while watching the bank of security monitors on the wall.
On the screen, she saw the violence unfold. Aleandro moved through the halls like a phantom, his tactical precision and absolute lack of fear turning the tide of the ambush. Supported by Marco and his security team, they systematically cleared the estate of every single Donati mercenary.
By 4:30 AM, the estate was secure.
The steel door of the vault hummed, unlocking with a heavy hydraulic hiss.
Elena jumped up as the door swung open. Aleandro stood outside, his black vest torn at the shoulder, a thin line of red trickling down his jawline from a minor cut, but he was alive.
"It's over," Aleandro said, stepping into the safe room.
Without thinking, Elena dropped Mia onto the sofa and threw her arms around Aleandro’s neck, hugging him tightly.
Aleandro stiffened in surprise for a fraction of a second, unused to anyone touching him with such raw emotion, before his strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly against his chest.
"You're bleeding," Elena whispered against his shoulder, her eyes wet with tears.
"It's just a scratch," he murmured, his breath warm against her hair. "You and Mia are safe. That’s all that matters."
He set her down gently, though his hand remained rested on her waist.
Marco stepped into the room behind them, holding a small silver box retrieved from one of the dead mercenary captains.
"Boss," Marco reported grimly. "We searched their commander's body. He had a radio synced to an internal frequency inside our house."
Aleandro’s eyes turned to cold stone. "An insider?"
"Not just an insider," Marco said, setting the silver box on the table. "This radio was encrypted with the security clearance codes of senior lieutenants. The only person who had access to these codes besides you was Silvio."
Elena gasped. Silvio Rossi—no relation to her father—was Aleandro’s senior uncle and executive vice president of Moretti Logistics. He was a wealthy, silver-haired man who had worked alongside Aleandro’s late father for thirty years.
"Silvio," Aleandro repeated, his voice dangerously low. "He was the one who framed Julian twenty years ago. He’s been feeding information to the Donati family for two decades, leeching off our shipments while keeping Julian’s name disgraced."
Aleandro turned to look at Elena, a dark, calculating strategy forming behind his steel-gray eyes.
"Silvio thinks his strike team succeeded tonight," Aleandro said softly. "He thinks you are captured and I am dead. He called an emergency meeting of the syndicate board at our Manhattan headquarters for eight o'clock this morning to claim leadership of the family."
Elena held her breath. "What are you going to do?"
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Aleandro walked over to the sofa where Mia was sitting, picking up the small silver locket that hung from the little girl's neck.
"Twenty years ago, Silvio stole your father's honor and tried to destroy my life," Aleandro declared, his tone laced with absolute authority. "Today, Elena, you and I are going to Manhattan. And we are going to take back everything he stole from us."
