Chapter 3 - The Second Page
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Marked for termination.
I stepped back, my hip bumping against the edge of the stove. “Termination? Because I walked into the wine cellar? I didn't see anything! I swear I didn't read the papers!”
“It doesn't matter what you saw,” Javier said, stepping closer, his tone urgent but not unkind. “Rocco is running a rogue operation behind Carmine’s back, skimming funds from the shipping ports and selling estate security blueprints to a rival syndicate. You were a convenient liability. He figured he could rough you up, scare you into silence, or make your disappearance look like an accidental overdose if you caused too much trouble.”
“And Carmine?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “What does Carmine have to do with all of this?”
Javier hesitated, looking down at the floor for a fraction of a second before meeting my eyes again. “Carmine inherited an empire built on blood and secrecy, Elena. But he’s spent the last five years trying to clean house—trying to cut out the rot. Rocco was his father’s most trusted enforcer. Carmine couldn't just execute him without proof, or the old guard would revolt. But the black folder you saw tonight? That’s the proof Carmine has been hunting for two years.”
“So I’m just a pawn in their war,” I said, a bitter, hollow laugh escaping my torn lips. “A domestic servant who happened to be cleaning the wrong room at the wrong time.”
“You’re not a pawn,” Javier corrected sharply. “If you were a pawn, Carmine would have let Rocco handle you quietly. Instead, he locked the door, secured the perimeter, and put his own neck on the line to find out who laid a hand on you.”
Before I could process the weight of his words, the burner phone on the table lit up, vibrating violently against the metal surface.
Javier snatched it up instantly, pressing it to his ear.
“Talk to me,” Javier snapped.
As he listened, the color visibly drained from his face. The rigid, professional mask he always wore cracked entirely.
“Where?” Javier demanded into the phone. His eyes snapped toward me, wide and filled with sudden panic. “Dammit. Alright, secure the perimeter, but do not engage until I get there.”
He ended the call with a sharp punch of a button.
“What is it?” I asked, a cold dread washing over me. “Javier, what happened?”
“Rocco didn't go to ground,” Javier said, his voice dropping into a harsh register. “He knew Carmine was onto him. He anticipated the move.”
May you like
“Where is he?”
“He’s not in the estate,” Javier said, grabbing my arm with a grip that was firm but not painful, pulling me toward the service exit. “He just broke into the parking garage at your brother’s apartment building.”
