PART 2

Lena should have returned the pH๏τograph.

She knew that.

It belonged to someone else.

It was probably part of Roman’s world, a world she had no business entering.

But at two in the morning, sitting alone in Isabella’s room, Lena couldn’t stop looking at the man’s face.

Silas Romano.

She had seen the name in newspapers.

Not often.

Never clearly.

But enough.

A rival.

A businessman.

A man whose family had been fighting the Morettis for generations.

And now he was watching the estate.

Lena folded the pH๏τograph into her pocket.

She found Roman in his study.

He was standing behind his desk with his jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms.

He looked up when she entered.

“Isabella?”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Then why are you awake?”

Lena placed the pH๏τograph on his desk.

His expression changed instantly.

Not dramatically.

That would have been easier.

Instead, every trace of warmth disappeared.

“Where did you find this?”

“It was inside her medical folder.”

“You shouldn’t have touched it.”

“I know.”

Roman picked up the pH๏τograph.

His eyes stayed on it.

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you known?”

“I just found it.”

He looked at her.

“That’s not what I asked.”

She understood.

He wanted to know how long she had known someone was watching.

“I found it tonight.”

Roman turned the pH๏τograph over.

His jaw тιԍнтened.

“Silas Romano.”

“That’s who he is?”

“Yes.”

“He’s been watching the house?”

“For months.”

Lena stared at him.

“Then why is nobody doing anything?”

Roman’s eyes lifted.

“Because sometimes the safest move is letting your enemy believe you haven’t noticed him.”

“And now?”

“Now you’ve noticed.”

She crossed her arms.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Roman was silent.

Then he said quietly,

“Because once you know what happens outside these walls, you stop seeing this house the way you did before.”

“Maybe I should.”

He looked at her.

“Maybe.”

Something in his voice made her uncomfortable.

“You hired me to care for your mother.”

“I did.”

“Then I deserve to know if I’m in danger.”

Roman’s expression hardened.

“You weren’t supposed to be.”

“But I am.”

“Not while I’m alive.”

The words came too quickly.

Too honestly.

They both heard what he had said.

Roman looked away first.

Lena’s heart beat harder.

“Roman…”

“Go back to Isabella.”

She didn’t move.

“You can’t keep protecting everyone by refusing to tell them the truth.”

His eyes met hers.

“You think I don’t know that?”

The anger in his voice wasn’t directed at her.

It was directed at himself.

“I know exactly what this house is.”

He looked toward the window.

“I’ve spent my entire life making sure my mother never had to.”

Lena softened.

“She loves you.”

“I know.”

“And she’s proud of you.”

Roman gave a humorless smile.

“She shouldn’t be.”

“Maybe she doesn’t care about the things you’re ashamed of.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

Then said:

“That’s why I don’t want you to see them either.”

Neither spoke.

Something had changed.

Neither of them knew what to call it.

By October, the estate had become a fortress.

Extra guards.

Locked gates.

Cars checked twice.

Security patrols along the tree line.

Roman stopped leaving the property unless necessary.

But Isabella’s medical appointment could not be postponed.

Her specialist wanted another scan.

Roman wanted to cancel it.

Lena refused.

“If she misses it, you may regret it.”

Roman looked at her.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you’re afraid.”

His expression went still.

Lena immediately regretted saying it.

Then he surprised her.

“Yes.”

One word.

No excuse.

No anger.

Just truth.

“I’m afraid of losing her.”

Lena’s voice softened.

“Then take her.”

He looked at her.

“And you?”

“I’ll be there.”

“No.”

“Roman—”

“I’m coming too.”

The convoy left two days later.

Three black vehicles.

Six guards.

One driver.

Isabella in the middle car.

Lena beside her.

Roman in the seat opposite.

The city pᴀssed outside the tinted windows.

Nobody spoke much.

Isabella held Lena’s hand.

Roman watched the road.

They entered the hospital through a private underground entrance.

Concrete walls.

White lights.

Security cameras.

No reporters.

No crowds.

It should have been safe.

It wasn’t.

The lead vehicle stopped.

Roman’s head lifted.

Something had changed.

The guards looked toward the ceiling.

One light flickered.

Then another.

Roman’s expression hardened.

“Don’t stop.”

The driver reached for the accelerator.

Too late.

A sharp crack echoed through the garage.

Isabella gasped.

Lena instinctively grabbed her.

The convoy erupted into motion.

Guards shouted.

Tires screamed against concrete.

Roman pulled Lena down behind the seat.

“Stay there!”

Another impact struck the armored vehicle.

Lena’s heart hammered.

Isabella was trembling.

Roman reached for his mother.

“I’m here.”

Then his eyes met Lena’s.

For the first time since she had known him, she saw genuine fear in his face.

Not fear for himself.

For them.

The vehicle turned sharply toward the exit.

Then stopped.

Roman looked ahead.

The garage doors were closed.

Locked.

He slowly reached for his phone.

No signal.

The lights went out.

Complete darkness swallowed the vehicle.

Then, somewhere beyond the windshield, a man’s voice echoed through the garage.

“Roman Moretti.”

Roman’s expression changed.

Lena felt his hand close around hers.

The voice continued.

“You’ve been hiding behind those walls for too long.”

A pause.

Then:

“Tonight, we’re taking back what your family stole.”

Roman looked toward Lena.

And she realized something terrifying.

The attack wasn’t aimed at Isabella.

It wasn’t even aimed at Roman.

Someone had known exactly where she would be sitting.