But it’s the photo beneath the headline that stops my heart. Elena, leaving her flower shop. The caption reads: “Elena Harper, owner of Petals & Pines, reportedly linked to Alessandro ‘The Shadow’ De Luca, suspected head of the De Luca crime family.”
“How—” Elena’s voice is small, shocked. “How do they know? How did they—”
“Russo.” Marco says the name like a curse. “Your grandparents’ last name was Russo. Same as the family we’re at war with. The feds think you’re connected, either a plant, or collateral, or leverage. Either way, you’re now part of their investigation.”
“But I’m not, I don’t have anything to do with—” She’s looking at me now, fear and confusion warring in her expression. “Alessandro, tell them. Tell them I’m not involved.”
“It doesn’t matter what I tell them.” The words come out flat. “They’ll investigate you anyway. Question you. Tear apart your life looking for connections. And Elena, they’ll find them. They’ll find the texts, the calls, the fact you’ve been living in my penthouse. They’ll twist everything into proof of involvement.”
“No.” She’s shaking her head. “No, this isn’t happening. I run a flower shop. I’m not a criminal. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You fell in love with me.” The admission is bitter. “It’s enough to destroy your life.”
She stares at me, and I watch the realization hit, watch her understand exactly what being with me actually costs, is worse than any physical pain.
“Get out.” Her voice is quiet, deadly.
“Elena—”
“Get. Out.” Louder now, trembling with fury. “Both of you. Out of this room. Out of my sight. Out of my life.”
“You don’t mean that—”
“Don’t I?” She’s out of bed now, grabbing my shirt from the floor and pulling it on with shaking hands. “You knew. You knew this could happen and you still—” Her voice breaks. “You still took everything from me. My safety, my reputation, my future. You took it all and didn’t even warn me.”
“I was trying to protect you—”
“By fucking me?” The accusation cuts. “By marking me, claiming me, making sure everyone knows I belong to you? That’s protection?”
“It’s complicated—”
“It’s selfish!” She’s shouting now, tears streaming down her face. “You wanted me, so you took me, and you didn’t care what it would cost me. You didn’t care that my name is now in the paper linked to organized crime. My shop will suffer. My life is ruined because I was stupid enough to fall for your lies!”
“They weren’t lies—”
“Get out!” She grabs the nearest thing, a lamp, and throws it. The crash against the wall echoes like a gunshot. “Get out before I call the police myself and tell them everything!”
Marco grabs my arm. “Boss, we need to go.”
But leaving Elena like this, furious, terrified, and feeling betrayed, every instinct screams against it.
“Elena, please—”
“I said get out!” Another throw, a book this time. “And don’t come back. Don’t call, don’t text, don’t send your men to watch my shop. We’re done. You hear me? Done!”
Marco physically pulls me from the room before more projectiles can be launched. The door slams behind us, and the sound of Elena’s sobbing carries through the walls.
“Boss—”
“Don’t.” The word comes out broken. “Just—don’t.”
Three hours ago, she was in my arms, sated and trusting and mine. Now she’s behind that door, crying because being with me has destroyed her life.
Marco was right. The men were right. Caring about her made me sloppy, made me selfish, made me put what I wanted over what she needed.
And now she’s paying the price.
“What do you want to do?” Marco asks quietly.
