Chapter 2 - The Ransom of Freedom
Dominic pulled out a chair from the adjacent table and sat down, his massive frame imposing even in relaxation. He placed his black leather gloves on the white tablecloth, his eyes never leaving Elena, who had sat back down, pulling Sophie and Noah onto her lap while Caleb remained standing on his chair, guarding them like a tiny sentinel.
"Why, Elena?" Dominic asked, his voice deathly quiet, completely stripped of the rage that usually accompanied his confrontations. "I spent three million dollars hiring investigators. I tracked you to Toronto, to London, to Miami. Every trail went dead because someone with massive resources was erasing your digital footprint. Who helped you run from me?"
Elena took a shaky breath, her arms wrapping tightly around Sophie’s dark curls. "Nobody helped me run from you, Dominic. They helped me run to save my life."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your uncle, Matteo," Elena whispered, the name causing a visible shudder to pass through her body. "The night you left the penthouse after that argument... you thought I ran away because I was guilty of treason. But twenty minutes after you slammed the door, Matteo’s private enforcers burst into the apartment. They didn't come to talk. They threw a duffel bag of cash at my feet, held a gun to my stomach, and told me that if I didn't disappear permanently, they would trigger an 'accident' for both me and the baby I was carrying."
Dominic’s breath caught in his throat. His blood turned to pure, sub-zero ice. "Matteo knew you were pregnant?"
"I had just taken the test that morning, Dominic!" Elena cried out, a sob finally escaping her lips, causing Noah to bury his face into her cardigan. "I had the ultrasound photo on the kitchen counter. Matteo saw it. He told me that a Moretti heir from a woman who wasn't part of the syndicate bloodlines would ruin his plans for the family's future. He forced me onto a private train to Detroit, stripped me of my phone, my cards, my identity, and told me that if I ever tried to contact you, he would ensure you received my body in a shipping container."
Dominic stood up so fast his chair flew backward, crashing loudly against the hardwood floor. The sheer, terrifying magnitude of the betrayal hit him like a physical blow. Matteo Moretti—his father’s brother, the man who had guided him into the leadership of the syndicate after his parents died—had systematically dismantled his family, stolen five years of his children’s lives, and left him to rot in a prison of artificial grief.
"He told me you died in a car crash in Michigan three years ago," Dominic said, his hands shaking violently as he gripped the edge of the table. "He showed me a falsified dental record and a burned-out chassis. I held a closed-casket funeral for you, Elena. I buried an empty box while my children were growing up without a father."
Elena looked up, her amber eyes widening in profound shock. "He... he told you I was dead?"
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"We were both prisoners of his design," Dominic hissed, his blue eyes flashing with a lethal, unadulterated fury that made the brick walls of the restaurant seem to vibrate. He reached into his jacket, pulling out his secure satellite phone, and speed-dialed Gabriel.
"Gabriel," Dominic barked into the receiver. "Assemble the strike team. I want Matteo Moretti brought to the shipping warehouse at the South Docks by midnight. Do not kill him. I want him alive. He has five years of debt to settle with me."
