Chapter 2 - THE COAT IN THE HALLWAY
“Matteo, why would your mistress need to know when I'm completely alone?”
The silence in the dining room felt heavy enough to shatter the crystal glasses.
Matteo’s face, usually an unreadable mask of mob-boss stoicism, lost all its color. He looked from his grandmother to the heavy oak door where Sofia had just exited.
“She asked about your schedule?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yesterday,” Rosa replied, her grip on Elena’s hand unyielding. “And she specifically asked if my security detail goes inside the church with me.”
Elena felt her pulse drumming in her throat.
Sofia wasn't just a mistress trying to claim a wife's seat. She was mapping out the vulnerabilities of the family matriarch.
“I didn't tell her to ask that,” Matteo said quickly. Too quickly.
“I didn't ask if you did,” Rosa countered, her dark eyes sharp. “I asked why she would need to know.”
Matteo ran a hand over his face. The confident, ruthless man who ran the city’s underground looked suddenly like a cornered boy.
“You need to leave her, Matteo,” Elena said.
He finally looked at his wife. The coldness from earlier was gone, replaced by a desperate, panicked exhaustion.
“It’s not that simple, Elena. I can’t just cut her off.”
“Why?” Elena asked, her voice steady despite the trembling in her chest. “Because she’s good in bed?”
“Because she knows where Leo is.”
The name dropped like a bomb in the middle of the dining table.
Leo. Matteo’s four-year-old nephew. The child who vanished three months ago after Matteo’s brother was killed in a car accident. The police said the boy was likely taken by rival families, but no ransom demand ever came.
Elena’s breath hitched. “Sofia knows?”
“She doesn't just know,” Matteo confessed, his voice breaking. “She’s the one hiding him. That's why she’s here. That's why I gave her a key. She said if I didn't treat her like my queen, I’d never see my brother’s son again.”
Elena felt the room tilt. Everything she had believed for the past two months—the cheating, the coldness, the humiliation—it was all extortion.
But as relief threatened to wash over her, a dark realization took its place.
If Sofia was holding a child hostage to force her way into the Valenti family, why was she asking about Rosa’s security?
“Matteo,” Elena said, standing up. “Where is your coat?”
“In the hallway. Why?”
Elena didn’t answer. She rushed to the foyer, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She found his black cashmere overcoat draped over a chair.
She dug into the pockets.
“Elena, what are you doing?” Matteo asked, following her out.
Her fingers brushed against stiff paper. She pulled it out.
It was a first-class boarding ticket for a flight to Geneva. Dated for tomorrow morning.
But it wasn't the date that made Elena’s blood run cold. It was the passenger name.
May you like
It didn't say Sofia Bellini.
It said Rosa Valenti.
