chapter 31

Chapter 31: The Call

The farmhouse stayed quiet for two more days after Elena sent the video. No new messages. No cars on the dirt road. No shadows moving in the trees. Matteo’s men patrolled in shifts, but the tension eased just enough for everyone to breathe.

Elena spent the mornings in the kitchen again. Cooking simple things—pancakes one day, scrambled eggs the next. The guys ate like they hadn’t seen food in weeks. Luca always stole extra bacon. Nico ate slow, watching her move around like it was the best show he’d ever seen. Matteo just watched her. Always watching.

She felt their eyes more now. Not hungry like before. Something steadier. Like they were memorizing her in the daylight.

That afternoon she sat on the porch swing. Sun warm on her face. Bare feet on the wood. One of Matteo’s shirts again, sleeves rolled up. No bra. No panties. Just comfortable.

Luca came out first. Sat beside her. Threw an arm over the back of the swing.

“You look good out here,” he said.

She smiled. “Feels good. Normal.”

Nico joined them. Leaned against the railing. “You’ve been quiet since the video.”

Elena shrugged. “Thinking. About Aunt Maria. About what she must be feeling.”

Matteo stepped through the door last. Phone in hand. Face hard.

“She called,” he said.

Elena’s stomach twisted. “Who?”

“Your aunt. Burner to burner. She got the number somehow. Probably from Vittorio.”

Luca sat up straighter. “What’d she say?”

Matteo looked at Elena. “She wants to talk to you. Five minutes. No tricks. She’s alone. No recording. Just… talking.”

Elena stared at the phone in his hand.

Nico stepped closer. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” Elena took a slow breath. “But I want to. Just to hear her voice. Just to say I’m okay.”

Matteo studied her for a long second. Then handed her the phone.

“Speaker,” he said. “We stay right here.”

Elena nodded. Hit accept.

The line clicked open.

A soft, shaky voice came through.

“Elena? Baby, is that you?”

Elena’s throat tightened. “Aunt Maria.”

A sob broke on the other end. “Oh God. Elena. I’ve been so worried. Your father… he showed me things. Videos. Pictures. I didn’t want to believe them, but…”

Elena closed her eyes. “I know what you saw.”

“You looked… happy. In them. But you can’t be. Not really. Not with those men. They took you. They hurt you.”

Elena opened her eyes. Looked at Matteo. Luca. Nico. All three watching her. Silent. Waiting.

“They didn’t hurt me,” she said quietly. “Not the way you think.”

Aunt Maria’s voice cracked. “Then come home. Please. Your room is still the same. Your books. Your clothes. Everything’s waiting. Your father… he’s broken without you. He cries at night. He says he failed you.”

Elena’s hand shook on the phone.

Luca reached over. Squeezed her knee. Gentle.

“I’m not coming home,” Elena said. “I’m sorry. I love you. I always will. But this is my home now.”

Silence on the line. Then a whisper.

“How can you say that? After everything?”

“Because I chose it,” Elena answered. “Every day. I chose them. They see me. All of me. The parts Daddy tried to hide. The parts you never knew existed.”

Aunt Maria cried softly. “You’re so young. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I’m nineteen,” Elena said. “Old enough to know what I want. And I want this. I want them.”

Matteo’s hand found her back. Warm. Steady.

Aunt Maria’s voice dropped lower. “He’s planning something. Vittorio. He won’t stop. He says he’ll get you back. Even if it kills him.”

Elena swallowed. “Tell him to stop. Tell him I said goodbye. Tell him I’m safe. Tell him I’m happy.”

A long pause.

“I love you, baby,” Aunt Maria whispered. “I always will. But I don’t understand this.”

“I know,” Elena said. “I’m sorry.”

The line went quiet.

Then clicked off.

Elena handed the phone back to Matteo. Her hands were steady now.

Luca pulled her into his side. “You did good.”

Nico touched her cheek. “Strong.”

Matteo pocketed the phone. “She’ll tell him. He’ll hear it from her. Maybe it sinks in. Maybe it doesn’t.”

Elena looked out at the trees. The sun dipping lower.

“If it doesn’t,” she said, “we’ll be ready.”

Matteo nodded. “We will.”

They sat there until the light turned gold. No one spoke for a while.

Then Luca stood. Held out his hand.

“Come inside,” he said. “Let’s eat. Let’s forget the call for a bit.”

Elena took his hand. Let him pull her up.

Nico and Matteo followed.

Inside, the kitchen felt warmer. Safer.

They cooked together. Elena chopped vegetables. Luca stirred sauce. Nico set the table. Matteo watched them all with that quiet look he got sometimes.

After dinner they moved to the living room. Couch. Blankets. Elena in the middle again.

No rush to touch. Just close.

Matteo’s arm around her shoulders. Luca’s head on her lap. Nico’s hand resting on her thigh.

She looked at each of them.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For letting me talk to her. For not pushing.”

Luca kissed her knee. “Anything for you.”

Nico squeezed her thigh. “Always.”

Matteo kissed her temple. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

Elena leaned her head on Matteo’s shoulder.

The night settled in.

Outside, the world kept turning.

Vittorio kept planning.

But inside these walls, Elena felt something new.

Not just comfort.

Not just want.

Something solid.

Something that felt like forever.

And when Matteo finally pulled her closer, when Luca’s hand slid higher, when Nico kissed her slow—

She didn’t think about the call.

She just let herself feel.

Them.

This.

The life she chose.

And the quiet promise that tomorrow, whatever came, they’d face it together.