Chapter 4 - The Golden Cage
The ride back to the Moretti estate was suffocatingly silent.
Elena sat in the back of the armored SUV, clutching Mia so tightly the toddler finally fell asleep.
Adrian sat across from them, staring out the tinted windows into the dark city streets.
Daniel wasn't an electrician.
The man she had loved, the father of her child, was an assassin for the Russian mob.
Her entire life, her marriage, and her grief had been built on a complete lie.
When they arrived at the estate, the heavy iron gates closed behind them like the doors of a prison.
Adrian led them to a massive, luxurious suite in the east wing.
The room had a marble fireplace, a king-sized bed, and a connected nursery filled with brand-new toys.
"You will stay here," Adrian ordered, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from a crystal decanter.
"You have guards outside your door, and you will not leave this wing without my permission."
Elena placed sleeping Mia into the small crib and turned to face the billionaire.
"I am not a prisoner, Adrian," Elena said, her voice shaking but defiant.
Adrian took a slow sip of his drink and stepped closer to her.
"You are until I figure out why the Russians want this ledger so badly," he replied.
He tossed the leather notebook onto the coffee table.
"Daniel wrote down every job he ever did for them."
Elena looked at the book, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her.
"Why are you protecting us?" Elena asked, looking up into his dark, unreadable eyes.
Adrian set his glass down and closed the distance between them.
He reached out and gently brushed a strand of loose hair behind Elena's ear.
The touch was completely unexpected, sending a jolt of electricity down her spine.
"Because Mia smiled at me," Adrian whispered, his voice losing its usual harsh edge.
"And because I protect what belongs to me."
He turned and walked out of the suite, locking the heavy doors behind him.
Elena stood frozen in the middle of the luxurious room.
She belonged to him now.
She walked over to the coffee table and picked up Daniel's leather notebook.
She needed to know exactly who her husband really was.
She flipped through the pages, reading the dates, the amounts of money, and the names of the victims.
Then she reached the very last page, written just three days before Daniel died.
May you like
There was only one name written in red ink on the final line.
The target was Adrian Moretti.
