Chapter 3 - The Confrontation in the Conservatory and the Syndicate’s Deadly Move
The heavy mahogany doors of the private conservatory clicked shut, locking out the noise of the engagement party. The room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the massive glass ceiling, casting silver shadows across the exotic indoor plants.
Elena stood with her back against the cool glass of a terrarium, her chest heaving as Alessandro stepped closer, closing the distance between them with predatory grace.
“You shouldn't have come out here,” Alessandro said, his voice a low, gravelly hum that vibrated through the quiet space. “The guests will start asking questions if the groom disappears too long with a maid.”
“Let them!” Elena snapped, her temper finally snapping after hours of emotional torture. She pushed off the glass, stepping right up to his chest, forcing him to look down into her blazing hazel eyes. “Is that all I am to you, Alessandro? A convenient secret to hide in the shadows while you play house with Victoria Hale under the blinding lights?”
Alessandro reached out, his large, warm hand gripping her waist, pulling her curves flush against his hard frame despite her half-hearted struggle.
“Listen to me, Elena,” he growled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of her hip. “Victoria is a parasite. Her father is working with the Chicago Syndicate. They forced my hand with poisoned contracts and threats against everyone in this estate. I had to play along to draw their sniper out into the open.”
“And you couldn't tell me?” Elena's voice cracked, tears finally spilling over her lashes. “You let me stand there serving champagne while my heart was being ripped out of my chest? You kissed me three weeks ago, Alessandro! You swore I mattered!”
“You matter more than my own life!” Alessandro shouted in a fierce, choked whisper, his forehead resting against hers. “That is why I pushed you away! If anyone touches you, if the Syndicate realizes how deep my feelings run for a curvy, beautiful, stubborn woman who smells like vanilla and rebellion, they will cut your throat to punish me!”
Elena's breath caught. For the first time, she saw the raw, agonizing terror lurking behind the eyes of the most feared man on the East Coast. He wasn't arrogant; he was terrified.
Before she could speak, a sharp, metallic clink echoed from the high vents above the conservatory ceiling.
Alessandro's body instantly went rigid. His mafia instincts flared. In a fraction of a second, he shoved Elena hard behind a massive marble pillar, drawing the heavy, customized Sig Sauer pistol from his shoulder holster with terrifying speed.
“Stay down,” he hissed.
Bang!
A bullet shattered the glass skylight above them, showering the conservatory floor with deadly shards. Red laser sights danced across the dark foliage.
“Ambush!” a voice roared over the security earpiece clipped to Alessandro's collar. “Boss, the front gates are breached! Chicago hitters are moving through the kitchen!”
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Alessandro fired twice up into the shadows, a muffled groan echoing from the rafters as an assassin dropped heavily to the floor. But the terrifying realization hit Alessandro like a physical blow.
The assassins weren't just here to kill him. They were heading toward the private family quarters on the third floor—the exact wing where Elena had hidden little Leo.
