The drive back to the estate was shorter than I had anticipated—or perhaps I had been too lost in my thoughts to notice the distance from the cemetery to Lake Michigan.

Elena.

I muttered her name under my breath, the sound barely audible over the hum of the engine. Seeing her reaction at the cemetery had been... unexpected. Surprising, even, compared to everything I had heard about her.

I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a moment as her image flashed before me—young, bold, fierce, and simply captivating. For years, I had seen her face on the front pages of Chicago’s magazines, always untouchable, always out of reach. I had known there was something about her that intrigued me. But seeing her up close? That was different.

A sudden surge of anger made me tightened my grip on the armrest.

"That son of a bitch!" I growled, my voice sharper than I intended.

Lucas, seated across from me, raised an eyebrow. He had been my childhood friend, my business partner—the only man I truly trusted.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

I scoffed, shaking my head as I stared out the tinted window. How the hell did a man like Lorenzo Russo get so lucky? A woman like Elena… he didn’t deserve her.

Lucas shifted in his seat, watching me closely. He knew me too well—knew that when I started thinking like this, it always led to something dangerous.

"She’s like a fine wine," he mused, his tone thoughtful. "Too naïve for what awaits her."

A slow smile tugged at my lips. Lucas wasn’t wrong. Elena had no idea the kind of world she had been forced into. She thought she understood power, control, loyalty—but she didn’t. Not yet.

The car slowed, and I glanced up just as we pulled in front of the massive iron gates of my estate. The driver signaled, and the gates swung open, welcoming me home.

Welcome back, boss."

Marco, one of my senior guards, stood by the car, holding the door open. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings even as he greeted me, ever alert.

I stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of my jacket. "Is Colton in?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.

Marco hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "Haven’t seen him all day, sir."

I exhaled sharply. Typical. My younger brother never liked staying home—too restless, too reckless.

Lucas followed closely behind me as we stepped into the estate. The grand entrance led into the elaborate living room, its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows casting long shadows in the dim evening light. The air smelled faintly of expensive whiskey and leather, the kind of luxury that only masked the secrets beneath it.

I loosened my tie, my mind already shifting to the next problem at hand.

ELENA

I'll go get the car ready," Dante said hurriedly, like he knew I was going to press him further about what he had just told me.

"Dante," I called, my voice urgent and firm.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me.

"I need the details of all my husband's dealings with his business associate," I said, my tone both authoritative and unwavering.

"Yes, Mrs. Russo," Dante replied before hurrying away.

Just then, I noticed my father walking toward me. At that moment, I felt grateful for his presence.

"Are you certain you're ready for this?" my father asked softly, stepping beside me. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t trying to dissuade me.

"I owe this much to Lorenzo. He didn’t deserve to die like this." My father shifted uncomfortably beside me. Even though I knew Lorenzo was involved in shady business, I never imagined it was dangerous enough to cost him his life.

"Besides, you've always taught me to be brave, never to give up on what I believe in," I said, trying to convince him that I could handle the challenge before me.

"I guess you’ve made up your mind," he murmured, knowing me too well to argue. Once my mind was set, there was no changing it.

"Mrs. Russo, the car is ready," Dante announced.

I nodded, walking beside my father while Dante did what he did best—guarding.

My father placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Be careful," he said in a low, sincere tone, concern etched across his face.

He waited until I climbed into the car before turning back to his own.

I had barely closed my eyes for two minutes when I heard Dante calling my name.

Was this what it truly meant to be a Mafia Don—no rest, not even in grief?

I blinked twice and fixed my gaze on him, silently urging him to speak quickly.

But Dante said nothing. Instead, he gently handed me a box wrapped in baby pink—my favorite color.

On it, an inscription read:

"To My Dearest Wife."

His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "The boss asked me to give this to you after his funeral."

My hands trembled as I reached for the box, my heart pounding. What could possibly be inside?

The moment we arrived at Lorenzo’s mansion, my mind was fixated on the not-so-tiny box in my hands.

Lorenzo had always been generous with gifts, often surprising me with presents whenever he returned from a business trip. But this one was different. Why? Because it could either hold the answers I desperately sought—or something far more dangerous.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, I ignored the staff’s greetings and headed straight to my room, my pulse quickening with every step.

Inside the master bedroom I once shared with Lorenzo, I swiftly locked the door and tore the box open with urgency.

A small note fluttered to the floor.

"Be careful. They are watching your every move."

My breath hitched. My gaze snapped back to the box, and my stomach dropped when I saw what lay inside—a pistol.

A sudden knock on the door nearly made me jump out of my skin.

Heart pounding, I realized I was still wearing my heels. I quickly slipped them off and shoved the box’s contents under my pillow.

"I’m coming!" I called out, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.

When I opened the door, shock coursed through me. It wasn’t the cook which I was expecting to see—it was Dante.

"Sorry, I know you weren’t expecting me," he said, his tone unreadable. "I told the cook not to disturb you. I wanted to check on you myself."

His gaze flickered past me, attempting to peer into my room.

"Would you like anything to eat?" he asked casually, but there was something in his eyes—something calculating.

What was he looking for?

Is something wrong?" I asked, studying him closely.

He immediately avoided my gaze. "Not at all. I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

"The documents I asked for—when can I get them?" I asked before he could hurry away.

"Tomorrow." He hesitated for a moment before walking off.

I had never really dealt directly with my husband's workers before, but was this how they all behaved? Or was I missing something? The thought nagged at me.

I locked the door as soon as Dante was out of sight and quickly retrieved the contents I had hidden under my pillow.

My fingers tremble slightly as I unfolded the note once again, scanning the words carefully. Then, I lifted the pistol from the box, its cold weight settling into my palm.

The touch of the weapon sent a flash of memory surging through me.

"Hold the gun firmly in your right hand and focus on your target." Lorenzo had stood at my side that day, his voice steady as he guided me. I had reluctantly told him that violence wasn’t my thing, that I had no need for a gun. But he had insisted.

"At the count of one, two, and three… shoot." His command echoed in my mind.

A sudden buzz from my nightstand yanked me back to the present. I grabbed my phone, Sarah’s name flashing on the screen.

“Sarah?”

“Elena, I’m so sorry,” Sarah rushed out, emotion thick in her voice. “My flight got delayed, and I—” She swallowed. “I should’ve been there.”

A pause. Then a quiet chuckle, though it lacked warmth. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand.”

But Sarah knew Elena. Knew how she masked her pain, how she always put others at ease, even when she was drowning.

“El, I should have been by your side,” Sarah said, her voice softer now. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.”

“I’m okay,” Elena replied quickly. Too quickly. “Everyone was here. My father,his business associates, some friends from the neighborhood…” Her voice trailed off, and Sarah could almost see her, sitting in that too-quiet house, wearing that brave smile she always put on when things got tough.

“You don’t have to be strong for me,” Sarah whispered.

A shaky breath came through the line, but Elena didn’t break. Not again. She has cried enough for one day.

Sarah sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Remember when we used to talk for hours in college? You’d always be the one keeping me grounded, reminding me to eat, to stop stressing over exams. And when I moved abroad, you were the only one who still called me every Sunday without fail.”

Elena let out a soft laugh. “Because you were terrible at keeping in touch.”

Sarah smiled despite the ache in her chest. “Exactly. And now, it’s my turn to be there for you.” She took a breath. “I’m coming tomorrow, first thing in the morning. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Another silence. This time, heavier. Then, finally, Elena whispered, “Thank you, Sarah.”

And Sarah knew—deep down, her friend was holding back something bigger than grief. But she wouldn’t push. Not yet. Tomorrow, when she saw her, she’d find out.

“I’ll send someone to pick you up tomorrow,” Elena said, breaking the silence.

“See you tomorrow,” Sarah replied softly before hanging up.

I held the phone to my chest for a long moment after Sarah hung up, letting the warmth of her voice linger. She was coming, finally.

A breath shuddered out of me as I placed the phone on the nightstand and lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. The weight of the day pressed down on me, but sleep felt like an impossible luxury.

My mind kept circling back to the cemetery.

Those men. The ones who arrived last with Dante. The one that had caught my attention, Deluca.

I had never seen him before, yet something about him felt disturbingly familiar. The way his eyes lingered on me, assessing, as if he knew something I didn’t. As if he knew me.

A shiver ran down my spine.

What was his connection to my husband?

My chest tightened, and I forced a deep breath, willing my thoughts to quiet. But the questions wouldn’t stop. They gnawed at me, pulling me deeper into uncertainty.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion creeping over me.

But even as sleep claimed me, his face remained—haunting the edges of my dreams.

The next day, Dante brought the documents, just as I had instructed. He placed them on the table with a curt nod, his expression unreadable.

Knowing Sarah would be here any moment, I barely spared the files a glance before hurrying toward the kitchen. The scent of garlic and herbs filled the air as I stepped inside, where the cook was putting the final touches on the meal.

"How much longer?" I asked, scanning the dishes laid out. Everything had to be perfect.

"Just five more minutes," the cook replied.

I exhaled sharply, smoothing my hands down my dress. Five minutes. That was all the time I had to gather myself before Sarah walked in.

El!”

I heard my name echo from the living room, Sarah’s voice unmistakable.

Without hesitation, I rushed over, my heart pounding with anticipation. The moment I stepped out of the kitchen, Sarah launched herself at me, her arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders as she giggled, her excitement infectious.

I laughed, gently pulling away to get a better look at her. She hadn’t changed one bit—her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders just as perfectly as I remembered, and she still had that same curvy figure and confident stance.

“How was your trip?” I asked, drawing her attention back to the present as she glanced around the house, taking in every detail with curious eyes.

This house is massive!” Sarah exclaimed, spinning around to take it all in. “How do you even cope living here?”

I knew she hadn’t been here since I married Lorenzo, though she had met him on countless occasions during our trips abroad.

I offered a small smile, but before I could respond, she continued, shaking her head in amazement. “I knew Lorenzo had money, but I had no idea he was this filthy rich. No wonder you were always on the front pages of every Chicago magazine.”

She marveled at the grandeur, but her excitement faltered when she noticed the shadow crossing my face.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her expression turning apologetic. “I know you’re still grieving your late husband. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in gently, forcing a reassuring smile. “Come on, let me show you to your room.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and led her upstairs, grateful for the excuse to shift the conversation away from the ache still lodged in my chest.

After making sure Sarah had everything she needed to be comfortable in her room, I quickly headed to mine, hoping to go through some of the files Dante had brought earlier before she was ready for breakfast.

I sat on the bed, pulling out the stack of documents. Though several required my attention, one, in particular, caught my eye.

Carefully, I slid it out from the pile— DEAL OF AGREEMENT—boldly printed across the top. My breath hitched as my gaze traveled down the page, stopping at two familiar names: ADRIAN DELUCA and LORENZO RUSSO. Both signatures were scrawled at the bottom in ink.

My hands trembled as I scanned the contents.

Half of the casino and roulette business… belonged to Adrian Deluca.

The paper slipped from my grasp as a wave of disbelief washed over me. My late husband had been business partners with Adrian Deluca?

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as a chilling thought crept in.

Could Adrian have killed Lorenzo to claim full control of the business?

At the thought of that sickening possibility, my vision blurred, and before I knew it, my legs gave out beneath me. I sank to the floor, the weight of the revelation pressing down on my chest like an iron fist.

As I stepped into the office that morning, my mind was set on one thing—something I needed to handle before attending to any other business.

"Good morning, sir. I brought your coffee," Nicole, my secretary, said, placing the cup on my desk.

As she leaned forward, the neckline of her dress dipped just enough to offer a tempting view. She was petite, her curves more pronounced than her frame suggested. Her face wasn’t striking, but those curves? They more than made up for it.

I didn’t bother looking away. I knew she wanted me—her lingering glances, the way she always found reasons to be close. All it would take was a few words from me.

I cleared my throat, a silent reminder that the show was over. She straightened, adjusting her dress with a knowing smirk.

"I'll be at my desk, sir."

I gave a curt nod.

But she wasn’t the one I wanted. The only woman I wanted to hear screaming my name while I was fucking her probably hated me right now. And that was the real problem.

Back to the matter at hand, I pulled out my phone and dialed the supervisor’s number. Then, without hesitation, I called Lucas and instructed them both to meet me in my office immediately.

I wasn’t a man who minced words. So the moment they were seated in front of me, I got straight to the point.

"From this moment forward, I will be personally in charge of Harrah Joliet Casino."

Mr. Diego, the supervisor, raised an eyebrow, hesitating like he wanted to speak but didn’t dare to.

"Do you have something to say, Mr. Diego?" I asked, watching his reluctance.

He cleared his throat. "I was just surprised, sir. You’ve never really shown interest in the casino since you became a partner with the owner."

Because back then, Elena Russo had never been involved in her husband's affairs. I had only bought my share of the place to be close to her.

But to Diego, I simply said, "I wish to get myself familiar with the business from now on."

"That will be all," I said, dismissing Diego.

I saw him give a slight nod before heading out.

Turning to Lucas, I knew I was about to receive the lecture of a lifetime. He had no intention of leaving just yet.

"Does this have anything to do with Russo's widow?" Lucas asked. No one had ever dared to question my authority—except for him. Being my best friend, he got away with things others wouldn’t.

"She is a free woman," I replied, knowing I couldn't let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

Lucas crossed his arms. "Have you heard the latest rumor?"

I raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

"It's being said that you confronted Russo, and the next day, he was found dead in his office."

"Son of a bitch," I growled, slamming my fist against the desk.

Lucas exhaled sharply. "My point is, do you think she’d want anything to do with the supposed killer of her husband?"

For a split second, I wondered whose side he was on.

"Yours, of course," he answered as if reading my mind. I hadn't realized I’d spoken aloud.

I clenched my jaw. "I wish I had killed that punk myself, but someone else beat me to it," I muttered under my breath.

Lucas shook his head. "Thank Jesus you didn't. That would have killed any slim chance you have with his widow."

"Will you be coming to the club today?" Lucas asked, changing the topic.

"No, not today. I have other plans,"

I replied quickly.

Lucas eyed me suspiciously. "What about your old man? When are you going to see him?"

At the mention of my father, I immediately opened the computer in front of me, pretending to be busy.

Lucas shrugged, not wanting to push further. He knew how sensitive I got whenever my father’s name was brought up.

After Lucas left, I buried myself in work, pushing anything concerning my father to the back of my mind.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced at the screen—Marco’s name flashed across it.

If he was calling me at this hour, it had to be important. I picked it up.

"Boss, Colton is back. He just came in now," Marco informed me.

I clenched my jaw. "Is he alright?" I asked, trying to control the rage simmering beneath my skin.

Marco hesitated. "He... came in drunk."

The last thread of my patience snapped. "Take his car keys and his ATM card. Hold onto them."

"Yes, boss."

I hung up, resisting the urge to smash something. Father and son—both seemed determined to push me to my limits.

ELENA

Within the course of five days, I’ve uncovered more about my late husband than I ever did during our four years together.

And I can’t help but blame myself, too.

Growing up, I watched my father lose everything in the name of this never-ending war. The destruction of our family, the pain it brought, made me vow I’d never get caught up in such a violent world.

Lorenzo had promised to protect me, and for four years, he kept that promise.

But now, the very life I’ve tried so hard to avoid is closing in on me, and I can’t escape it.

“Bingo!” Sarah’s voice pierces through my thoughts, causing me to jump.

I blink at her, her long curly brown hair dripping wet. She had dragged me out for a swim, but here I am—sitting on the edge of the pool, letting my legs splash the water idly.

“Are you even in this universe?” she teases with a playful grin.

I glance around, noticing the guards standing nearby. This definitely isn’t the place to talk about the storm brewing in my head.

“Catch me if you can,” I say, giving her a quick wink before diving into the pool.

I stepped out of the pool, leaving Sarah, who seemed born for the water, and headed for a shower. The day was winding down, and I had plans for the night. Wrapped in a towel, I emerged from the shower to find Sarah sitting on my bed, fiddling with the strings of her hair.

"Just the person I've been waiting for," Sarah said, rearranging her hair. I walked over to my dressing mirror and sat down, my back to her.

"Are you ready to talk about him?" Sarah whispered softly, her voice laced with concern. I knew she'd been trying to get me to open up, but I'd been avoiding the topic.

Sarah got up from the bed and sat on the dressing table, facing me. "I...I trailed off, unable to confront the memories I'd buried for the past five days. Sarah reached out, her hands encouraging me to continue.

"That morning, we made passionate love. He said he needed to remember my scent throughout the day. It was one of the most beautiful experiences we'd shared." I laughed bitterly, the pain still felt raw.

"Three hours later, when he left for the office, Dante came back to the house. Dante never left his side...ever. But that day, he returned, his eyes filled with bloodshed, his clothes stained with blood. All he said was, 'The boss has been shot.'" My voice cracked, the memories flooding back.

"That's the last thing I remember before waking up in the emergency unit," I whispered, the pain and fear still etched in my mind.

I gently disengage myself from Sarah's embrace, feeling a sense of liberation wash over me, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

"What's the authorities doing about his murderer?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling with rage.

I shrugged, my attention focused on applying light makeup to my face. Sarah's eyes widened in surprise.

"Where are you going at this time of night?" she asked, her concern evident.

I gave her a thoughtful look before responding, my voice confident. "The Casino."

Sarah's eyes went wide. "The what!" she exclaimed, incredulity etched on her face.