The nickname comes to me unbidden, but it fits. She's clever, quick to adapt, and has a way of slipping through situations that would trap anyone else. If she's playing a game that could hurt this family, I need to know what it is and how deep it goes.
But as I stare at the loading screen, I can't shake the feeling that this assignment is going to change everything. Elena has always been off-limits—Rina's cousin, family by association, too complicated. But now Vito's basically ordering me to get close to her, to watch her every move, to insert myself into her daily life.
The irony isn't lost on me. For months, I've been keeping my distance from Elena, telling myself it's for all the right reasons. Now I have a direct order to do exactly what I've been fighting against.
I've noticed Elena since the first day Rina brought her around. Hard not to notice a woman who looks like she could either save your soul or damn it, depending on her mood.
She's beautiful, obviously, but it's more than that. There's an intelligence in her eyes that most people miss, a sharpness that suggests she's always thinking three moves ahead. She doesn't simper or defer like a lot of women in our world do. When Elena looks at you, you get the distinct impression she's seeing straight through to your core.
It's unnerving as hell, and I've made it my business to avoid being on the receiving end of that particular look.
Until now.
Now I'm going to be spending my days figuring out what makes Elena tick, what secrets she's hiding, what game she might be playing. I'm going to be close enough to smell her perfume, to hear the way her voice changes when she's lying, to watch the way she moves when she thinks no one's paying attention.
The background check finishes loading, and I scan through the familiar information. Twenty-three years old. No listed employment, though I know she did some work for RRE. Lives alone in a modest apartment about fifteen minutes from here. Her finances are interesting—bills paid regularly from whatappears to be a trust fund, minimal credit card usage, no significant purchases or red flags.
On paper, Elena looks exactly like what she appears to be: a young woman living a quiet life under the protection of one of the most powerful families in New York. But papers don't tell you about the fire in someone's eyes or the way they move through a room like they're cataloging every exit and potential weapon.
I close the laptop and lean back against the headboard, my mind already working through the logistics of this assignment. Watching Elena isn't going to be like surveilling a typical target. She knows our world, knows our people, knows how protection details operate. If she's been slipping past her current security, it's because she's smart enough to exploit their weaknesses.
The challenge of it appeals to me more than it should. Elena thinks she can outmaneuver Vito's men? We'll see about that.
The smart thing would be to request a different assignment. Tell Vito I'm too valuable doing other things, that someone else could handle one woman. But I know without even considering it that I'm not going to do that.
Maybe it's professional pride—the knowledge that I'm the best at what I do, and if anyone can figure out Elena's secrets, it's me. Maybe it's curiosity about what she's really up to. Or maybe it's something else entirely, something I'm not ready to examine too closely.
What I do know is that starting tomorrow, Elena Messina's carefully controlled world is about to collide with mine. She's been playing whatever game this is by her rules, in her territory, with her advantages.
That's about to change.
I've spent twenty years learning how to read people, how to anticipate their moves, how to stay ten steps ahead of anyone who might pose a threat to this family. Elena may be smart,may be resourceful, may even be dangerous in ways we haven't discovered yet.
But she's never been hunted by someone like me.
I settle back into bed, but sleep feels impossible now. My mind is already racing ahead to tomorrow, planning approaches and contingencies, thinking through the best ways to get close to her without tipping my hand.
The assignment is supposed to be about protecting the family, about discovering whether Elena poses a threat to everything we've built. But as I lie here in the dark, I can't shake the feeling that the real danger isn't what Elena might do to us.
It's what getting close to her might do to me.
CHAPTER 3
Elena Messina
Red shirt,two o'clock. Blue shirt and black shorts, six o'clock. Tourist with a camera, eight o'clock.
So easy to spot. I'm clearly being watched, and no doubt it's Vito's men doing the watching. Nothing new there—I've been under surveillance for years now. It comes with the territory when your cousins have been at the center of major drama in this ongoing war with the Costellos, and when your father carries the kind of baggage that makes people nervous.
Speaking of my father, he's been exiled from the Rosso organization for years now, ever since Giuseppe Rosso—Vito's father—decided to make an example out of him. That particular piece of information has been gnawing at my brain for years. In this life, there are only two ways out: death or exile. The fact that they chose exile over death for my father raises questions I'm not sure I want the answers to.
My grandfather—Nonno to Rina, Sofia, and me—is Don of the Cosa Nostra in Italy and a Commission leader. His influence reaches far beyond anything most people can imagine. Per Nonno's request after my father was exiled, I've remained under Vito's protection. When I was younger and living with AuntOlga and Uncle Tomasso, that protection felt more like a distant safety net. But ever since Tomasso tried to betray Vito, the surveillance has become much more intimate and constant.
I've never felt like the protection was because I'm family. It's always felt more like they're waiting for me to prove I'm just like my father—a traitor waiting for the right moment to strike.
But the truth is more complicated than that. My father wasn't just exiled for owing money to the Irish—though that debt is real and massive. He also owes something to people who don't like to be kept waiting, especially by Italians. The Irish don't appreciate anyone owing them money, and they've made it clear they think I should help them collect what's owed.
I don't know how I got roped into this mess. Why don't they just deal with my dad directly? Oh right, because no one can find him. He's been in hiding since his removal from Rosso protection, and apparently, I inherited his talent for disappearing when necessary. Being a former soldier under the Rossos taught him a lot about evasion and survival. Clearly, it didn't teach him restraint or good judgment.
