Chapter Nine: The Leak

The drive back to the penthouse passed in heavy silence. Damien sat beside her with his phone pressed to his ear, speaking in low, urgent Italian. Elena watched the city blur past the window, barely seeing it. Her mind stayed fixed on the meeting with Richard and the message that had followed so quickly. Someone had known about the meeting. Someone close enough to move fast. Close enough to warn them while they were still sitting in the coffee shop.

The thought she didn’t want kept circling back. Damien could be the leak.

She hated herself for thinking it, but she couldn’t push it away. He had known about the meeting. He had the most to lose if his father was exposed. It would be easy for him to play both sides while she trusted him blindly. Wanting to trust him did not mean it was smart. Survival demanded caution, even when it hurt.

When they reached the penthouse, Damien went straight into his office to make more calls. Elena stayed behind, alone with the documents Richard had given her. She spread them across the coffee table, studying the financial records again. Money moved through shell companies and offshore accounts in complicated loops. The deeper she looked, the clearer it became that someone had wanted it this way. Confusing. Layered. Nearly impossible to trace.

Marco arrived twenty minutes later, looking exhausted and tense. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. Someone had leaked the plan for the gambling operation. The Calabrese family had known exactly what was coming. Marco had started checking access lists, and the problem was how short the list was. Whoever had talked was trusted. Inner circle. Someone who had earned their loyalty.

Elena asked how many people had known. Marco said fifteen at most. Captains. Senior soldiers. Men her father had relied on for years. The betrayal made her stomach twist. She wondered how Antonio Russo had lived with this level of suspicion for decades without breaking.

Damien came out of his office as Marco finished explaining. His expression had hardened into something sharp and dangerous. They needed to find the traitor before anything else was compromised. Damien suggested feeding different versions of information to different people and tracking which version leaked.

Elena agreed it was smart, but time wasn’t on their side. Until they knew who the traitor was, everything they touched was exposed. Marco said they needed to limit communication to a handful of people. For now, that meant just the three of them and maybe two others.

Then Elena’s phone rang.

The hospital.

Her heart jumped as she answered, bracing for bad news. Instead, the nurse told her Tony Marchetti had woken up and was asking to see her. Relief hit her so hard she had to sit down. She promised she would be there within the hour.

Damien said he would come with her. Marco stayed behind to continue tracking the leak. By the time Elena grabbed her jacket, Marco was already on his phone again.

The drive to the hospital was quiet. Elena kept glancing at Damien, trying to read him. She couldn’t tell if her doubts were instinct or fear twisting everything into suspicion.

The hospital smelled the same as it always had. Clean. Sharp. Familiar. It reminded her of another life, when she had walked these halls as a doctor instead of the head of a crime family. They took the elevator to the ICU, where Tony lay under guard. He looked battered and pale, but alive.

Tony tried to sit up when he saw her. Elena told him not to be an idiot and said she was glad he’d pulled through. His voice was rough as he apologized for getting hurt, for being careless. Elena cut him off. He had been injured following her orders. That responsibility belonged to her.

She asked if he remembered anything. Tony said it had been chaos, but he had seen one attacker clearly. He had recognized him. A former Russo soldier.

The cold hit Elena instantly. Tony said the man’s name was Salvatore Ricci. He had worked under Antonio Russo until six months ago. He had left to take care of family in Florida. At least, that was the story.

Damien was already texting Marco. Elena asked if Tony had told anyone else. Tony said he had tried, but he’d been drugged and in pain. Elena told him to say nothing more.

In the hallway, Damien said Ricci likely hadn’t just helped with this attack. He had probably been leaking information for months. Elena agreed, but something didn’t add up. Ricci couldn’t have known about the meeting with Richard or the gambling operation unless he still had access. Unless he wasn’t alone.

Marco called before they reached the elevator. He had pulled Ricci’s file. Antonio had let him go cleanly, even given him money. No suspicion. Marco was already tracking him.

Elena told him to bring Ricci in alive. They needed answers.

When the call ended, Elena leaned against the wall. Her father’s organization had been bleeding information for months. The traitor might have helped set up Antonio’s death.

Damien said this was progress. They had a name. A direction. Elena nodded, but the sickness in her stomach didn’t ease.

They were almost at the car when Elena’s phone buzzed.

Congratulations on finding Ricci. You’re too late.

There was a photo. Marco. Shot from a distance. A red crosshair over his head.

Damien tried calling him immediately. Straight to voicemail. Again. Nothing. Panic broke through Damien’s control as he ordered the driver to head for the estate.

When they arrived, Elena knew something was wrong. Men stood with weapons drawn. The front door was wide open. Inside, soldiers moved fast, calling out with tight voices.

A captain told them Marco had left twenty minutes earlier to follow a lead. Three men had gone with him. No contact since. His last location was near the docks.

They moved immediately.

The docks at night felt unreal. Containers stacked high, shadows everywhere. Damien’s men searched while Elena stayed close, her hand on her gun. They found Marco’s car near a warehouse. The door was open. Blood stained the concrete. Not much. Enough to know someone had been hurt.

Damien said it was an ambush. They had been taken alive.

Elena asked why.

Damien didn’t soften the answer. Information.

Her phone buzzed again.

Come alone in one hour. Bring the documents.

Elena showed Damien. He refused instantly. She said if they didn’t go, Marco would die. She wouldn’t go truly alone. They just needed it to look that way.

Damien studied her for a long moment. Then he nodded.

The address was an abandoned factory. The kind of place people disappeared.

Elena looked at him and understood that whatever waited there would decide everything.