Chapter 3 : Shadows and Secrets

Elena didn’t hesitate. She knew Matteo was watching her closely, and any hesitation could raise suspicion. With a casual shrug, she declined Captain Reynolds' call, slid her phone back into her pocket, and met his gaze.

“Not someone important,” she said smoothly. “Just an officer who helped me at immigration when I had issues proving my identity. Now he won’t stop calling, keeps asking me out.”

Matteo studied her for a moment before letting out a deep laugh and shaking his head.

“Of course he is. Men will always want you, Elena.” His smirk widened as he leaned in slightly. “It’s just who you are.”

Elena forced a small, amused smile, Matteo was starting to piss her off.

Matteo chuckled, rolling his shoulders. “You want me to deal with him? Get him off your back permanently?”

Elena’s stomach twisted, but she quickly shook her head, keeping her tone light. “No need for that. He’s harmless, just persistent.”

Matteo shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him either way. “Suit yourself.” He took a slow step closer, his dark eyes flickering with something unsettling. “So, tell me, Elena, how much would it cost me to spend a night with you?”

Elena stiffened, though she kept her face composed. She was about to give him a sharp, controlled response when a voice interrupted them.

“Hello, I see that you’re new here.”

Elena turned to see the young woman she had seen dashing into the restricted area earlier. She was stunning—long dark hair, flawless skin, and striking features that reminded Elena of someone. It took her a moment to realize.

Lorenzo.

“My name is Isabella DeLuca,” the woman said with a warm, confident smile.

Elena blinked, slightly thrown off. Isabella DeLuca? She had studied the DeLuca family extensively before coming here, but she had never come across Isabella’s name.

Still, she recovered quickly. “Hi, Isabella. I’m Elena Russo,” she replied, watching Isabella closely.

“Are you enjoying yourself, or is my cousin here disturbing you?” Isabella teased, playfully slapping Matteo’s arm. “He’s a flirt. He wants to sleep with every woman he lays his eyes on.”

Elena forced a chuckle, unsure how to respond. Her mind was already working fast—why didn’t she know about Isabella? How had she missed something so important?

Isabella didn’t seem to notice Elena’s hesitation. Instead, she gave her an easy smile and tilted her head. “Let’s go have a chat. Girl to girl.”

Before Matteo could say anything, Isabella grabbed Elena’s hand and gently pulled her away.

Elena shot Matteo a glance as they left. His smirk was gone, his jaw clenched. He was watching them go, teeth gritted, eyes dark with something unreadable.

She didn’t know what Matteo was thinking, but she was sure of one thing—he didn’t like this.

***

Elena held the phone to her ear as she stepped onto the balcony, the city lights of Madrid stretching endlessly before her. She took a steady breath before speaking.

“I’m sorry I didn’t return your call, Captain. The night you called, I was with Matteo DeLuca, so I had to decline,” she explained, keeping her voice casual.

On the other end, Captain Reynolds didn’t sound pleased. “That was two days ago, Elena. Why didn’t you call back after that?”

Elena leaned against the railing, staring out at the streets below. “I had a hell of a hangover. I made friends with Isabella DeLuca, and she’s one heavy drinker. Me emborrachó (Got me drunk), and I was out of it. Haven’t been feeling great since then, Cap.”

There was a pause before Reynolds’ voice came through again, edged with curiosity. “Who is that?”

“La hermana menor de Lorenzo (Lorenzo’s younger sister),” she replied, still thinking about how Isabella’s existence had taken her by surprise.

“Lorenzo has a sister?” Reynolds sounded doubtful. “Didn’t know that.”

“Same here, Cap.”

Reynolds exhaled sharply. “Have you been accepted into the family now? Did everything go well that night?”

Elena hesitated before answering. “Lorenzo wanted to know who I am, my past. So I told him the story of Elena Russo—the identity I stole. He’s investigating now.”

“Are you sure he won’t find any cracks in your story?” Reynolds’ voice was firm now, laced with concern. “He’s dangerous, Elena. If he finds out you’re lying, he’ll kill you.”

Elena let out a slow breath, her mind drifting back to Elena Russo—the real one. She had worked on her case months ago. Found dead upon arrival in Spain, her body abandoned with no real answers. All that was known was that she had been trafficked as a child and spent years working for Ricardo Edwin as an escort. Ricardo had been sick at the time of her death, and Elena had never been able to link him to it. The case had remained a mystery.

“There shouldn’t be a problem,” she said, though she knew there was always a risk.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Captain. Don’t worry about me. Estaré bien(I’ll be fine).”

Her phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced at the screen—a message from Marco.

The boss wants to see you tonight. 9 PM.

“I’ve been summoned, Captain. I’m going back to Black Orchid tonight,” she informed him.

Reynolds was silent for a moment before his voice came through again, firm and protective. “Put me on the emergency dial. If things go south, call me immediately.”

Elena smiled faintly. Reynolds always acted like a father to his team, treating his officers like his own children, always trying to keep them out of harm’s way.

“Alright, Cap,” she said before ending the call.

She exhaled and looked back at the message on her phone. 9 PM. Whatever Lorenzo wanted, it was happening tonight.

Elena stepped out of the cab, her heels clicking against the pavement as she approached Black Orchid. The neon lights that usually bathed the entrance in a seductive glow seemed dimmer tonight.

A chill ran down her spine, but she straightened her shoulders, masking her anxiety. She had known this moment would come.

Lorenzo wouldn’t have summoned her unless he had the answers he was looking for. The question was—had she fooled him, or was this the end of the line?

Inside, the club was eerily quiet. Gone was the usual deafening music, the hypnotic swirl of bodies lost in dance. Only a handful of DeLuca men lingered, their gazes unreadable as they watched her enter. The absence of the usual chaos unsettled her more than she cared to admit. Something was off.

Marco appeared from the shadows, his usual easy-going demeanor absent. His greeting was brief, his tone clipped. “Come with me.”

Elena forced a nod, following him through the dimly lit corridors toward the VIP section. The closer they got, the heavier the air felt. The scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey grew stronger, mixing with an underlying tension that made her pulse race.

Then she stepped inside.

Lorenzo sat at the center of the room, his expression unreadable, but his presence alone made the space feel suffocating. His sharp jaw was set in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. He looked deadly. A gun lay on the table before him, its metallic sheen reflecting under the dim lighting.

Matteo was beside him, his usual cocky smirk absent. He leaned back lazily, but his eyes were sharp, watching her like a predator waiting for its prey to make the wrong move.

Elena swallowed hard, forcing herself to maintain her composure as she stepped forward. The air was thick, suffocating.

Her palms were damp, but she clenched them into fists, pushing down the fear clawing at her chest.

Had he found out?

Has her true identity been uncovered?

Her fate hung in the balance, and all she could do now was pray she could talk her way out of it.