Chapter 7 - A Scent of Crushed Almonds
By 3:30 AM, the dining salon had been cleared of the Vance family and their bodyguards.
The thirty syndicate capos remained seated along the table, having signed emergency transfer protocols that absorbed sixty million dollars of Vance pharmaceutical assets into the Rossi Family Trust without firing a single bullet.
In the master suite upstairs, the soft chime of an antique carriage clock signaled the arrival of the fourth hour.
Elena woke slowly, her eyes fluttering open to find the room bathed in the warm amber glow of the fireplace.
The pain in her abdomen had subsided into a dull, manageable ache. The intravenous drip had restored the warmth to her skin, and for the first time in six months, she did not feel the cold bite of the cellar floor against her ribs.
Beside her bed sat Mrs. Carter, holding a warm bowl of chicken broth and freshly sliced peaches.
“Drink, Donna Maria,” the old housekeeper whispered gently, helping her sit up against the silk pillows. “Your brother has cleaned the house.”
“Donna Maria...” Elena repeated, the name feeling strange, beautiful, and vast on her tongue.
The double doors opened softly.
Matteo walked into the room. He had removed his tuxedo jacket, wearing a simple black cashmere sweater and dark trousers, his hands in his pockets.
When he saw Elena sitting up, a rare, breathtaking smile softened his sharp jawline.
He walked to the bedside, dropping onto one knee on the rug.
“How does my nephew feel, Maria?” he asked softly.
Elena smiled through her tears, reaching out to touch his cheek.
“He’s sleeping, Matteo. He likes the warmth of this room.”
Matteo reached into his pocket and produced the antique silver rosary, cleaned and polished to a brilliant shine.
He gently placed the rosary into her palm, closing her fingers over the ebony beads.
“This belongs to you, little sister. Our mother held these beads every night when she prayed for your safe return. Now they will watch over your son.”
Elena looked down at the silver crucifix, her tears dropping onto the metal.
“What happened downstairs, Matteo?”
“Arthur Vance and Camilla are in federal holding,” Matteo replied, his voice firm and steady. “Their empire has been dissolved. The sixty thousand dollars in loan-shark debt in Gary has been erased, and the men who threatened your child will never see the light of day again.”
He stood up, walking over to the wardrobe, and opened the carved doors.
Inside hung an exquisite maternity gown of ivory silk crepe, embroidered with silver olive branches along the neckline.
May you like
“Tomorrow morning, the Five Families convene in the grand cathedral for our annual holiday mass,” Matteo said, turning to look at her with fierce, protective pride. “And you will walk down the center aisle as the true mistress of the Rossi dynasty.”
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