Chapter 3

Elara's POV

It was pouring when I left the Mancuso estate.

No bodyguard escort. No luxury car. I carried a black duffel bag with a few clothes and painkillers Enzo had slipped me.

When I walked through those iron gates with my umbrella, I looked back once at the mansion where I'd lived for ten years.

The second-floor study curtains were drawn tight.

I knew Stefano was sitting in that leather chair right now, or maybe having dinner with Yvette.

He probably thought I was playing hard to get, that after a few rough days outside, I'd come crawling back begging.

I turned away and walked into the storm.

I bought a ticket to a small border town down south. It had the quietest coastline in America—no mob wars, no backstabbing, just waves and sunshine.

A peaceful place to fade away.

Meanwhile, at the Mancuso mansion, the study was thick with tension.

Stefano sat behind his desk, smoking a nearly finished cigar. The signed confession lay there, "Elara Vance" written in letters that made his chest tight.

"Boss, she left three hours ago." Luca, his underboss, stood carefully before the desk. "Standard procedure—she turned in all credit cards, her gun, and the family crest. Walked out on foot."

Stefano crushed the cigar in the ashtray, sneering. "Walked out? Looking weak as she was, how far could she get? Forget about her. Give it three days and she'll be calling, begging to come back."

Luca hesitated. "But Boss, with this storm and her condition..."

"I said forget about her!" Stefano's voice exploded. "She signed that fucking document, she knew what it meant! This is what she gets!"

Luca bowed his head, silent.

A soft knock. Yvette entered with warm milk. She glanced at Luca, then at Stefano's dark mood, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Stefano, don't be angry," Yvette said softly. "Elara's just being impulsive. When she gets her head straight, she'll be back. After all, besides you, she has nothing left, right?"

That did it. He relaxed.

Yeah, she had nothing. Her family was crippled in gang wars five years ago, her parents dead, all her power stripped away. She could only depend on him.

But why did that dead look in her eyes when she signed make his chest feel so damn tight?

For the next week, Stefano waited. For that familiar number to call, for the guards to report Elara collapsed outside the gates.

Nothing.

Elara had vanished like she'd never existed.

"Find anything?" Stefano stood at the windows, voice ice-cold.

Luca was sweating. "Boss, we checked all flights, trains, credit cards. She left no trace. Cash only, avoided all cameras."

"USELESS!" Stefano spun and kicked over the coffee table. "How does a person just fucking disappear?! Get more men. Turn the whole East Coast upside down!"

"Stefano..." Yvette stood in the doorway, watching his breakdown with panic in her eyes. She'd never seen him lose it over Elara like this.

Stefano ignored her, grabbing the confession from his desk, knuckles white.

"You think you can run?" He stared at the signature, teeth clenched. "You still owe me. Even if you die, you die in a Mancuso grave!"

A month later, Mancuso family headquarters.

The top-floor office reeked of desperation. Stefano's eyes were bloodshot, stubble shadowing his jaw. He'd barely slept in weeks.

He'd used every underground network the family had, and finally, thirty minutes ago, they'd found her.

"Key West?" Stefano stared at the surveillance photos. The woman who'd once been radiant was smiling, talking to a flower vendor.

She looked pale but... fine.

The fear in Stefano's chest dissolved, replaced by burning rage.

She was smiling at strangers. After leaving him, she could still fucking smile. How could she live peacefully while he was going insane?

"She thinks running to the ends of the earth will save her?" Stefano shot to his feet, voice deadly. "Prep the jet. I'm bringing her back NOW. If she's gonna die, she's dying in New York!"

Just as he headed for the door—

BANG!

The office door burst open. Marco, the family's chief hacker, stumbled in, white as a sheet, clutching a blood-stained USB drive.

"Boss! You can't go! Don't go!" Marco's voice broke.

Stefano's eyes flashed. He grabbed Marco by the shirt. "You fucking insane? You're stopping me?"

"It's about five years ago... the truth about your parents' murder!" Marco shook like a leaf. "Elara didn't kill them! It was... it was..."

His words died. The USB slipped from his fingers and hit the floor.