Chapter 6 - Shadows from the Bronx
The peace of the Russo estate was shattered on a Tuesday afternoon when Marco walked into Dominic’s private study, his expression grimmer than usual. He dropped a thick manila folder onto the desk.
"We found out why Elena Vasquez was hiding in that Bronx shelter, Boss," Marco said, his voice low and tense. "It wasn't financial trouble. She’s running from the Marcone family out of New Jersey."
Dominic’s eyes narrowed into slits, his hands freezing over a contract. The Marcone family was a brutal, old-school faction that had been trying to infiltrate the Long Island distribution routes for a decade. "What does a housekeeper have to do with the Marcones?"
"She’s not just a housekeeper," Marco explained, leaning forward.
"Her real name is Elena Marcone. She’s the youngest daughter of old Don Marcone. Two years ago, her father tried to force her into a marriage alliance with an Albanian enforcer named Victor Hoxha to secure an arms pipeline. Elena refused. When her father tried to lock her up, she stole half a million dollars from their private counting house, changed her name, and vanished into the city. She’s been moving from shelter to shelter ever since."
Dominic stood up from his desk, walking to the window that looked out over the garden. In the courtyard below, Elena was currently pushing Mia on a swing, her laughter ringing through the afternoon air.
She wasn't an innocent civilian caught in the background; she was a princess from a rival syndicate, a fugitive carrying stolen money from one of the most violent families on the eastern seaboard. If the Marcones discovered she was under the protection of the Russo family, it would be seen as an act of total war.
"Does she know we know?" Dominic asked, his mind already calculating the tactical risks.
"No," Marco replied. "But there’s more. Victor Hoxha—the man she was supposed to marry—has been spotted in Brooklyn. He’s hired a crew of local bounty hunters. They’re tearing the city apart looking for her. It’s only a matter of time before they trace her employment history to this house."
Dominic felt a sudden, violent surge of possessiveness take over his chest. He didn't care about the Marcone family, and he didn't care about a stolen half-million dollars. What he cared about was the fact that the woman who had brought his daughters back from the dead was currently in the crosshairs of a sadist.
He walked out of his study and headed straight down to the garden.
May you like
Elena looked up as his heavy footsteps approached, her smile faltering slightly as she recognized the lethal, focused expression on his face. She stopped the swing, pulling Mia into her arms instinctively.
"Elena," Dominic said, his voice cold and unyielding as a winter storm. "We need to talk. Inside. Now."
