Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Treaty
Three days passed.
Under Adrien’s strict orders, the Moretti estate maintained an illusion of normalcy. The bug in Sophie's doll was replaced with a identical dummy transmitter hooked up to a digital audio loop provided by Vance's team.
Every afternoon, the Lucchesi family's intelligence officers listened to fake conversations leaking from the Westchester estate—arguments between Moretti lieutenants, fabricated logistics schedules, and false reports of Adrien suffering a nervous breakdown following his children's mysterious illness.
On Sunday morning, the trap began to take shape.
Don Hector Lucchesi sent a formal invitation to Adrien: a dinner meeting at Il Giardino, an exclusive, high-security restaurant in Little Italy. The stated reason was a "territorial truce" regarding the North Jersey docks.
"It’s an ambush, Don Moretti," Vance warned, setting a tactical map on the table in Adrien’s basement sanctuary. "Lucchesi thinks you’re weakened. He thinks your household is falling apart. He’s going to demand sixty percent of your shipping rights, and if you refuse, he’ll execute you inside the restaurant."
"He won't execute me inside Il Giardino," Adrien corrected smoothly, checking the slide of his silver-plated semi-automatic pistol before holstering it beneath his jacket. "Hector prides himself on being an old-school gentleman. He’ll make his demands, offer me twenty-four hours to sign the surrender documents, and plan to hit my car on the highway return trip—just like he did with Claire."
Sitting in a corner of the office, Elena was organizing updated medical files for the triplets. She paused, her hands tightening on the paper.
"Mr. Moretti," Elena said, her voice laced with concern. "If you know he’s going to attack your car... why are you going?"
Adrien looked at her. Over the past seventy-two hours, Elena and Sophie had moved permanently into the family wing. Sophie had become an inseparable companion to the triplets, teaching them how to play quietly with wooden blocks, while Elena took over managing the nursery with an effortless, soothing grace.
"Because, Elena," Adrien replied, his eyes dark and unwavering, "a predator doesn't stop hunting until you destroy his den. If I stay in this house, my children will never be safe."
Elena stood up, walking over to the table. "Then don't go alone."
"I have Vance and six armed guards—"
"That’s not what I mean," Elena interrupted, looking him dead in the eye. "Lucchesi thinks you’re broken. If you show up with a full army of bodyguards, he’ll know the bug was compromised. He’ll go into hiding, and you’ll be fighting shadows for years."
Adrien frowned, studying her face. "What are you suggesting?"
"Take me," Elena said firmly.
Vance gasped. "Are you insane?"
"Think about it," Elena argued, turning to Vance. "Lucchesi’s spies know I work here. They know my daughter brings her doll everywhere. If Adrien shows up at Little Italy accompanied by his children's nanny instead of a tactical squad, Lucchesi will truly believe Adrien has lost his mind and his edge. He will become arrogant. And arrogant men make mistakes."
Adrien stared at Elena. She wasn't a mobster’s wife. She wasn't trained in tactical combat. She was a mother who wore plain sweaters and organized laundry.
Yet standing before him, she didn't hesitate for a single second.
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"If anything happens to you..." Adrien began, his voice surprisingly thick.
"Nothing will happen to me," Elena said softly. "Because you won't let it."
