Chapter 7 - RETURN TO ROMANO HOUSE
I was discharged twelve days later.
Victor wanted an ambulance.
I refused.
He wanted a physician riding in the car.
I refused that too.
He compromised by placing a trauma doctor in the SUV behind us.
“Completely normal,” I said.
Victor ignored me.
Leo sat beside me in the back seat, holding my hand as though I might disappear if he let go.
The Romano estate came into view behind reinforced gates.
Half the damaged sunroom had been covered in dark construction panels.
The sight of it stopped my breathing.
Glass exploding.
Leo screaming.
Pain.
My hand tightened around his.
Leo noticed.
“You don’t have to go in there.”
I looked at him.
“Neither do you.”
His face became serious.
“We can burn that room.”
Victor, sitting opposite us, raised an eyebrow.
“Who taught you that?”
Leo shrugged.
“Uncle Dominic.”
“I did not,” Dominic called from the front passenger seat.
I almost laughed.
When the SUV stopped, Victor got out first.
Then he turned and offered me his hand.
I stared at it.
“I can walk.”
“The doctor said slowly.”
“The doctor also said no stress, and yet you’re here.”
Dominic coughed.
Victor gave him a murderous look.
I accepted Victor’s hand.
The moment I stepped onto the driveway, cameras flashed.
I froze.
Reporters stood beyond the outer gate.
Dozens.
“What is this?”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“Someone leaked your identity.”
My stomach dropped.
Reporters shouted.
“Mr. Romano, is she your fiancée?”
“Elise! Did Victor Romano pay you after the shooting?”
“Are you moving into the estate?”
“Were you romantically involved before the attack?”
Victor moved between me and the gate.
“Inside.”
I hated how relieved I felt when the mansion doors closed behind us.
Everything looked the same.
Polished marble.
Dark wood.
Expensive silence.
Except I was no longer carrying a mop.
The household staff had gathered in the foyer.
Chef Marco.
Two maids.
The groundskeeper.
Security officers.
And Mrs. Bellini, the seventy-year-old house manager who had terrified me more than Victor during my first week.
She stepped forward.
Her eyes filled.
“Oh, child.”
Before I could react, she hugged me.
Carefully.
“You gave us ten years off our lives.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You should be.”
Then she slapped Victor lightly on the arm.
“And you.”
Victor looked stunned.
“Me?”
“You look terrible.”
Dominic turned away to hide a smile.
Mrs. Bellini pointed upstairs.
“I prepared the east suite.”
“I can use my old room,” I said.
Everyone went silent.
My old room was a narrow staff bedroom on the third floor.
Mrs. Bellini looked personally insulted.
“You have three bullet wounds.”
“Technically they’re healing.”
“You are not climbing three flights of stairs.”
“There’s an elevator.”
“No.”
I looked at Victor.
“Did you tell her to do this?”
“I don’t tell Mrs. Bellini anything.”
Smart man.
The east suite was larger than my entire apartment.
It contained a sitting room, bedroom, marble bathroom and balcony overlooking the gardens.
Fresh clothes filled the closet.
I turned.
“Victor.”
He stood in the doorway.
“What?”
“Whose clothes are these?”
“Yours.”
“I’ve never seen them.”
“Mrs. Bellini bought them.”
I touched a sweater.
Cashmere.
Probably worth half my monthly rent.
“I can’t live like this.”
“You can.”
“I don’t want to.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“What do you want?”
No one had asked me that in a long time.
I looked around.
“A lock.”
He frowned.
“On the bedroom door.”
“You have one.”
“That you don’t have a key to.”
His jaw tightened.
“Elise.”
“Private boundaries.”
He stared at me.
Then removed a key from the ring in his pocket.
He placed it on the dresser.
“I won’t enter without permission.”
That surprised me.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
As he turned away, I said, “Victor?”
He stopped.
“I still think the wedding is a bad idea.”
“So do I.”
I blinked.
“That’s new.”
“The threat changed things.”
“Good.”
“We are announcing the engagement tomorrow.”
My mouth fell open.
“Excuse me?”
He looked back.
“If they expect a wedding, we give them one.”
“That makes no sense.”
“We force them to move.”
“You want to use our engagement as bait?”
“Yes.”
“Our?”
His mouth almost curved.
“You noticed.”
“I’m recovering from major surgery, not brain damage.”
Victor stepped closer.
“We control the timing. We control the location. We watch who reacts.”
“And Leo?”
“Will be nowhere near the announcement.”
I hesitated.
The plan was dangerous.
But hiding had already failed.
“What if whoever is doing this expects that too?”
“They probably do.”
“That does not reassure me.”
“It shouldn’t.”
I studied him.
Victor did not pretend he could guarantee safety.
Oddly, that made me trust him more than promises would have.
“Fine,” I said.
“One condition.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You enjoy conditions.”
“I choose my own dress.”
Victor stared.
“That’s it?”
“And no diamond necklace the size of a dinner plate.”
“Agreed.”
The next morning, the Romano organization released one photograph.
Victor and I stood in the library.
His hand rested lightly around my waist.
Sofia’s family ring was on my finger.
I looked calm.
Victor looked terrifying.
The caption contained six words.
VICTOR ROMANO AND ELISE CARTER — ENGAGED.
Within twenty minutes, every local news outlet had picked it up.
Within one hour, flowers began arriving.
Within two, threats arrived with them.
Most were anonymous.
Some were crude.
One contained a dead rose.
Then a package arrived from a name that made Victor’s face darken.
SALAZAR.
Inside was a bottle of champagne and a card.
Congratulations.
May this bride survive longer than the last.
Victor crushed the card.
I looked at Dominic.
“Is that normal mafia etiquette?”
“No.”
Victor reached for his phone.
I grabbed his wrist.
“No killing because someone annoys you.”
“He threatened you.”
“He sent champagne.”
“He mentioned my dead wife.”
“Then send him bad wine.”
Dominic made a choking sound.
Victor stared at me.
Then, impossibly, laughed.
Just once.
Low and startled.
Everyone in the room froze.
Apparently Victor Romano laughing was more alarming than gunfire.
Leo appeared at the library doors.
“Daddy laughed!”
Victor immediately stopped.
Leo ran away shouting, “Mrs. Bellini! Daddy laughed!”
I smiled.
Victor pointed at me.
“This is your fault.”
“For what?”
“The household losing respect for me.”
“I’m devastated.”
Then Dominic’s phone buzzed.
His amusement vanished.
“What?”
He looked at Victor.
“We found the woman who gave Leo the note.”
Victor’s eyes sharpened.
“Name?”
Dominic hesitated.
“She worked here.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
Victor’s face changed.
“Before Sofia died?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Dominic turned his phone around.
A security image filled the screen.
Mrs. Bellini walked into the room carrying tea.
The tray slipped from her hands.
China shattered across the floor.
Because the woman in the photograph was standing beside Sofia in an old family picture.
Mrs. Bellini whispered one name.
“Isabella.”
Victor stared at her.
“Who is Isabella?”
The old woman’s face went white.
May you like
Then she gave an answer none of us expected.
“Sofia’s sister.”
