Chapter 5 - the hidden ledger
By three o'clock in the morning, the rain outside had turned into a steady, misting drizzle over Lake Michigan.
The Rossi estate was silent, but the lights in the master suite on the third floor remained bright.
The master suite was a grand sanctuary of warm wood paneling, plush furniture, and a private nursery alcove. Damiano had ordered the staff to transform the adjoining room into a fully equipped nursery, complete with a handcrafted wooden crib, soft silk blankets, and baby supplies brought directly from the city's finest boutique.
Elina sat on a soft velvet sofa, holding a bottle of warm milk, gently feeding baby Marisol. The newborn nursed happily, her small hand resting against Elina’s thumb.
Damiano stood near the window, wearing a clean black shirt and dark trousers, looking out over the rain-swept grounds. In his hand, he held a crystal glass of dark bourbon.
He turned around, watching Elina feed the baby. The sight filled his heart with a profound, quiet warmth he hadn't felt in years.
"You were very brave tonight, Elina," Damiano said softly, his deep voice filling the quiet room.
Elina looked up, offering a tired, gentle smile. "I was terrified, Mr. Rossi. For three weeks, I thought every shadow in this house was coming to take Marisol away from me."
Damiano walked across the plush rug and sat on the coffee table directly across from her. He set his glass aside and looked down at the baby in her arms.
"Call me Damiano," he said gently. "You don't wear an apron in this wing anymore, Elina."
Elina’s heart skipped a beat as she looked into his piercing blue-gray eyes. "I... I don't know how to stop being a housekeeper, Damiano. It's all I've done for six years."
"You are Marisol’s aunt," Damiano said, reaching out with his large, warm hand to gently cover Elina’s fingers. "And as long as I draw breath, you are a member of the Rossi family. You will never have to work for anyone again."
Elina felt tears welling in her eyes as the crushing weight of fear she had carried for three weeks finally melted away under his protective presence.
"Julian loved my sister deeply, Damiano," Elina whispered softly. "He was going to take her to Italy. He bought a small villa near Lake Como... he showed her pictures of the garden three days before he died."
Damiano reached into his pocket and pulled out an old silver key attached to a brass tag. He set it gently in Elina’s hand.
"This is the key to that villa in Lake Como," Damiano revealed softly. "Julian bought it under Marisol’s trust. When this war is over, I am taking both of you there."
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Before Elina could answer, Marco stepped quickly into the master suite, his expression grim, his earpiece crackling with urgent static.
"Boss," Marco reported in a low voice. "We have a secondary security breach. Victor Vane’s private security chief, Falcone, just breached the north perimeter drive with three armored SUVs."
