Chapter 8 Say Yes
POV: Sebastian Blackwell
Elena wanted to walk into Saint Oria Chapel wearing a wire, carrying a false ledger and pretending she was willing to surrender.
It was a terrible plan.
Which meant it was probably the only plan our enemy wouldn’t expect me to permit.
“The woman isn’t Isabella,” I said as Daniel fitted a transmitter beneath Elena’s blouse.
She stood in the centre of my armoury wearing black trousers, boots and an expression that warned me not to repeat myself.
“I know my mother is dead.”
“You heard her voice.”
“I also heard my father’s voice on a dead woman’s phone. Someone has recordings.”
“Or an excellent impersonator.”
“Either way, I’m not walking into that chapel because I believe she’s waiting.”
Daniel stepped back.
“Wire is secure.”
My gaze followed the thin cable disappearing beneath Elena’s collar.
She noticed.
“Eyes up, Blackwell.”
“I was checking the equipment.”
“Of course.”
Daniel coughed.
“I’ll inspect the vehicles.”
He escaped before I could threaten him.
Elena reached for the false ledger.
I kept my hand on it.
“The cover team enters the moment I give the word.”
“No. They enter if I say the phrase.”
“If I see a weapon—”
“You’ll see dozens.”
“Elena.”
“They asked for me. If your men move before Luca is clear, he dies.”
“And if they take you?”
“They won’t.”
“That is not a plan.”
“Neither is shooting everyone who looks at me.”
“It has worked before.”
Her mouth almost curved.
The flicker of humour was gone quickly, replaced by grief.
I released the ledger.
“The phrase?”
“I want to go home.”
I disliked it immediately.
“Choose something else.”
“Why?”
“Because if you say those words, I may not wait to discover whether you mean them.”
Her eyes softened.
“Sebastian.”
“Choose something else.”
“Fine. ‘The roses are open.’”
Her mother’s roses.
I nodded.
Elena slid the ledger into a leather bag.
As she passed, I caught her hand.
“If the wire fails, you have a tracker in the heel of your left boot and another inside the clasp of your necklace.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You put a tracker in my mother’s necklace?”
“A replica. The original is secured.”
“How many objects on my body are reporting to you?”
“Not enough.”
She tried to pull away.
I tightened my grip.
“Come back to me.”
The order left my mouth before I could soften it.
Elena looked at our joined hands.
Then at me.
“Ask.”
It was one word.
It exposed every flaw in the way I loved her.
I loosened my fingers.
“Please come back to me.”
She rose onto her toes and kissed me once.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“Keep up,” she whispered.
Then she walked away.
Saint Oria clung to the cliff like a confession no one had finished.
Wind battered the stone walls. The sea crashed far below, invisible in the darkness.
Elena approached the chapel alone.
I watched through the scope from the ruined bell tower fifty metres away.
Every instinct demanded I cross the distance and put my body between her and the men waiting inside.
Instead, I trusted the woman who had survived six years without me.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done.
“Movement at the south wall,” Daniel said through my earpiece.
“Count?”
“Four. Possibly police.”
“Uniforms?”
“Yes.”
That meant nothing.
Half the names in Antonio’s ledger wore badges.
Elena pushed open the chapel doors.
Her wire carried the groan of hinges and the echo of her footsteps.
“I brought it,” she called.
A man answered through a voice modulator.
“Place the bag at the altar.”
Through a cracked window, I saw Luca bound to a chair beneath the broken crucifix.
His shirt was soaked with blood, but his chest moved.
Elena stopped halfway down the aisle.
“Release him first.”
“You are in no position to negotiate.”
“Then shoot me and explain to Matteo why the ledger burns the moment my heart stops.”
Silence.
I nearly smiled.
She was bluffing.
I made a note to build the device later.
A masked man stepped from behind a pillar and searched her for weapons.
His hand lingered at her waist.
My finger tightened on the trigger.
“Sir,” Daniel warned.
“I see him.”
Elena drove her forehead into the man’s nose.
He staggered back with a curse.
“Touch me again and you’ll need someone to carry you out beside my brother.”
Even Luca laughed weakly.
The voice modulator returned.
“The ledger.”
Elena placed the bag on the altar.
“Luca.”
One of the guards cut his restraints and shoved him into the aisle.
He collapsed.
Elena moved forward.
“Wait,” I said into her earpiece.
She ignored me.
Of course.
She reached Luca and knelt.
His hand caught her wrist.
“Trap,” he rasped.
The chapel lights died.
Gunfire exploded from the south windows.
I fired at the muzzle flashes.
Daniel’s team breached both doors.
Elena dragged Luca behind a stone pew as bullets ripped splinters from the wood.
“The roses are open!” she shouted.
I was already moving.
I descended the bell tower stairs, crossed the graveyard and entered through the vestry.
A uniformed police officer raised his weapon at Elena.
I shot him in the shoulder.
He went down screaming.
Elena looked from him to me.
“You took your time.”
“You assaulted the man searching you.”
“He was rude.”
“We’ll discuss your standards later.”
“I look forward to it.”
I caught Luca beneath one arm while Elena supported the other side.
We reached the chapel doors.
Headlights flooded the courtyard.
More police vehicles.
News vans.
Cameras.
Someone had invited the entire city.
“Sebastian!” a reporter shouted. “Is that Elena Caruso?”
Elena stopped.
Flashbulbs erupted.
Her face appeared on a dozen live cameras.
There was no hiding her again.
Perhaps that had been the purpose of the exchange.
Uniformed officers surrounded us.
Commissioner Adrian Vale stepped from the lead car. His name appeared twice in Antonio’s ledger.
“Mr Blackwell,” he said, “put down your weapon.”
“Your officers fired first.”
“We received reports of a hostage situation.”
“Then arrest the men inside.”
Vale looked at Elena.
Recognition became calculation.
“Ms Caruso died six years ago.”
“Clearly, the report was premature,” Elena said.
“You’ll need to come with us.”
“No,” I said.
Vale smiled.
“You don’t have authority here.”
He was right.
So I created some.
I handed my weapon to Daniel, stepped in front of the cameras and drew Elena against my side.
She stiffened.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Keeping you out of an unrecorded police vehicle.”
“How?”
I took the diamond ring Daniel carried for emergencies from my pocket.
Elena stared at it.
“Sebastian.”
“Trust me for thirty seconds.”
“That has never ended well.”
“Twenty-eight, then.”
I faced the cameras.
“There has been no fraud and no impersonation,” I said. “Mara Lane is a protected identity. The woman beside me is Elena Isabella Caruso.”
Questions erupted.
Vale’s smile vanished.
I continued before anyone could interrupt.
“Ms Caruso survived the attack that killed her father. Her location remained confidential because of ongoing threats against her life.”
Elena’s pulse jumped beneath my fingers.
“Tonight’s attack proves those threats remain active.”
I lifted the ring.
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“Say yes,” I murmured.
“You are out of your mind.”
“Probably.”
“This is not a proposal.”
“It is a legal shield with diamonds.”
“I hate diamonds.”
“I’ll remember that next time.”
For one second, I thought she would expose the entire performance.
Then Elena held out her hand.
I slid the ring onto her finger.
It fit.
Of course it did.
I had known her size for years.
Her eyes narrowed as though she realised.
Later.
I turned back to the cameras.
“Elena Caruso is my fiancée. Any attempt to detain, question or transport her without her lawyers present will occur in full public view.”
Vale could not take her quietly now.
He knew it.
So did every camera recording his face.
A reporter pushed forward.
“Ms Caruso, where have you been for six years?”
Elena looked at me.
I expected anger.
I saw fear.
Then she stepped out of my arm, faced the lights alone and lifted her chin.
“My name is Elena Caruso,” she said, her voice carrying across the graveyard. “Six years ago, someone tried to erase me.”
The crowd fell silent.
“They failed.”
Behind us, Luca collapsed.
As Daniel caught him, Luca grabbed my sleeve and pulled me close.
“That wasn’t Matteo in the chapel,” he whispered.
“Who was it?”
His unfocused gaze found Elena.
“Our mother.”
Then he lost consciousness.
