FIRE IN THE SHADOWS

For a second, Elena couldn’t tell whether it was thunder or a gunshot that shook the floor.

Someone shouted in Italian down the corridor, and heavy footsteps scattered in every direction.

Smoke drifted under the door, carrying the bitter scent of gunpowder.

She crouched behind a column, trying to make herself smaller.

Her heart beat so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it.

A hand closed around her arm.

“Stay down,” Alessandro said quietly.

He pulled her toward a low archway behind the main table.

The light was dim now; the single torch still burning threw long, nervous shadows across the walls.

For the first time since she’d met him, his calm looked forced—his movements too sharp, his jaw tight.

“Who are they?” she whispered.

“Not my men.”

That answer chilled her more than the storm outside.

Something exploded at the far end of the hall—glass, maybe a lantern.

Flames crawled up the curtains, sending orange light flickering over Alessandro’s face.

He turned to her, eyes narrowing.

“When I tell you to run, you run. Understand?”

She nodded. Words wouldn’t come out anyway.

The sound of boots drew closer. Three silhouettes appeared in the doorway—dark coats, masks, rifles raised.

Alessandro stepped in front of her, gun already drawn. The first shot tore through the air, echoing against the marble.

He fired back once, twice, the noise deafening.

Elena pressed her hands to her ears and tried not to scream.

One of the masked men fell. The others retreated into the smoke, shouting orders as they ran.

Alessandro turned, grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward a side passage.

“Move!”

They ran through twisting hallways lit only by emergency lamps.

Somewhere above them, the mansion groaned—beams cracking, glass breaking.

Elena’s lungs burned. She stumbled once, but he caught her wrist before she hit the ground.

“Almost there,” he said.

They burst into a smaller chamber lined with old books and heavy curtains.

He pushed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard.

For a moment, neither spoke. Only the sound of rain hammering the windows filled the space.

Elena finally found her voice.

“Why are they here? You said this house was untouchable.”

“It was,” he said. “Until tonight.”

He looked toward the ceiling as if he could see through it—calculating, angry, but also something else she couldn’t name.

When his gaze came back to her, the cold edge was gone, replaced by something quieter.

“You shouldn’t have been part of this,” he said.

She gave a shaky laugh. “You think?”

A small, unwilling smile ghosted across his face. “Point taken.”

They both turned at the same time when another sound came from the hall: a door slamming, then hurried steps—someone running straight toward them.

Alessandro raised his gun again.

“Behind me,” he said.

The handle twisted.

The door creaked open.

And standing there, soaked from the rain and shaking, was a man Elena recognized instantly—

the scarred driver from the night she was taken.

Only now, blood streaked his shirt, and fear filled his eyes.

“Boss,” he gasped. “They found him. Romano’s alive.”

Alessandro didn’t lower the gun right away.

Rain hissed against the windowpanes; the flames outside threw restless light through the smoke.

For a few long seconds, nobody moved.

Elena stared at the driver—at the crimson stain spreading across his side—and felt her stomach twist.

He was the same man who had dragged her off the street, yet now he looked terrified.

“Say that again,” Alessandro said quietly.

The driver swallowed hard. “Romano’s alive, sir. We found a message—coded, but it’s his. He’s in Palermo.”

He winced and pressed a hand against his wound. “They were protecting him. The men who attacked tonight—they weren’t after you. They were after her.”

He nodded toward Elena.

Her breath caught. “Me? Why?”

“Because you’re the one leverage your father has left,” Alessandro answered before the driver could. His voice had gone flat, dangerous. “They want to trade you before I can.”

Elena’s pulse raced. “Then let me go. If they’re after me, let them take me and end this.”

“That’s not an option.”

His words came fast, automatic. “If they get you, your father disappears forever—and they come for me next.”

The driver staggered. Alessandro stepped forward to steady him, his movements efficient, impersonal.

Blood smeared across his sleeve.

“Get a medic,” he said to no one in particular, but no one came. The house was too busy burning.

Elena took a step closer. “He needs help.”

“He made his choice,” Alessandro said, still staring at the man. “Tell me exactly what the message said.”

“Only two words.” The driver coughed. “The promise.”

Alessandro’s jaw tightened. “So he remembers.”

Elena frowned. “The promise? What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. His eyes flicked to her, then away again.

For the first time since she had met him, she thought she saw something like uncertainty.

“Get some rest,” he said finally. “This changes things.”

“Changes how?”

“You’ll know soon enough.”

He turned to leave, but she caught his wrist. “Alessandro—if my father’s alive, then you don’t need me anymore. Let me go.”

He looked down at her hand on his arm. The contact froze her; his pulse was steady, unhurried.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Elena. If he’s alive, you’re worth even more.”

The door slammed behind him.

She stood there shaking, listening to the thunder fade into steady rain.

The driver had collapsed against the wall, half-conscious. She knelt beside him and tore a strip from her dress to press against the wound.

“Why did you help me?” she asked.

He gave a weak smile. “Because your father once helped me. Told me people could change.”

“And De Luca?”

“He doesn’t believe in change.” The man’s eyes fluttered shut. “Only debts.”

His breathing slowed. Outside, the fire crackled lower, replaced by the steady drum of rain.

Elena sat beside him, trying to think. Palermo.

If her father was there, maybe there was still a way out.

Then she heard it—a soft scrape at the bookshelf.

One of the tall cases shifted, revealing a narrow passage behind it.

A shadow moved inside.

Elena froze.

A woman’s voice whispered from the dark.

“If you want to live, come with me. Now.”