She presses her lips in a tight line, clearly unhappy with being left in the dark, but she doesn’t push. She already knows it won’t get her anywhere.
She learns fast.
Driving through the city, biding my time through traffic, I make sure we’re not being followed, and only when I’m certain do I approach the nondescript office building.
Pulling up, I feel the weight of what I’m about to do settle in. This wasn’t part of the plan, and I sure as hell didn’t calculate it.
But I acted on instinct and spite back at Vito’s, all to protect someone who reminds me far too much of my sister and not at all like a bargaining chip to let whatever dark fate he had planned for her unfold.
As much as I’m still acting impulsively, whatever Elena is worth to the Grimaldis and Balakins, she’s about to be worth far more to me.
Chapter 4 - Elena
The shock doesn’t hit me all at once. Instead, it comes in waves, hot then cold, and completely disorienting. It crashes over me again and again, until I can’t tell which parts are real and which ones are made up out of pure panic.
I feel more like a spectator as I sit in a leather chair in an office somewhere, staring at a stack of papers I don’t recognize or understand. It’s a bunch of legal jargon that doesn’t make any sense, and all the while, expensive cologne threatens to take me out.
We’re surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, completely glass but opaque enough that I couldn’t see what was inside before we came in, aside from the soft, reflected glow of city lights. Somewhere below us, late-night traffic and the usual tourists create a distant hum.
Wyatt—or Vic, apparently—stands behind me, looming there like he expects something of me that he hasn’t fully explained yet.
He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel him there, solid and imposing. His presence somehow presses between my shoulder blades.
My fingers faintly tremble as I hold a pen. Whether it's lingering adrenaline from the car chase we found ourselves in, or the fact that I’m still with a man I don’t know, who claims to want to keep me safe, it doesn’t seem to matter.
“What is this?” I ask, looking up from the empty signature line to look the lawyer over again.
“It’s a formality,” the man says simply, gazing through small, round glasses perched on his nose. He’s older, silver-haired, and has eyes sharp enough to make me question what kind of lawyer he really is. He doesn’t seem clueless about the darker aspects of things unfolding around him, as some do. “It’s a protection, if you will.”
My hesitation lingers. “Protective how?”
“Protective…legally,” he responds with a small, polite smile. It tells me absolutely nothing.
Glancing over my shoulder, I look towards my apparent savior for answers, but he doesn’t meet my eyes for some reason. His jaw is tight, and his expression looks carved from stone.
“Vic?” The lawyer prompts lightly, “If you’d like to explain the details—”
“Just sign it,” he utters instead. The words are low and controlled, but not entirely unkind. They aren’t exactly gentle either.
Every instinct in me screams not to do it. Signing anything can lead to problems, especially when I don’t know what my signature is being collected for anyway.
“Is this some kind of guardianship form? I know I look young, but I’m not a child.”
“I know you aren’t,” he mumbles, sounding vaguely annoyed at the mere doubt. “I’m notadoptingyou. I’m trying to prevent worse things than what happened tonight.”
From the look in his eyes, I know he means it. At least, he believes that what just happened, maybe half an hour ago, could be just the start for me, and regardless of what he has planned, he’s doing it for me. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.
My stomach twists. “I still don’t understand.”
With a breath, he steps forward, leaning closer like it’s a warning in itself. The smell of him surrounds me in a tangle of leather, gun powder, and something else beneath it all. His voice drops quiet enough for only me to hear it.
“I don’t have time to walk you through every clause. But I wouldn’t pull you out of there just to put you in more danger. This keeps you alive.”
I force myself to ignore the way his gentle breath against the back of my neck makes me shiver. “That’s not reassuring.”
His eyes narrow. “It’s the truth.”
As we stare at each other a moment longer, the lawyer clears his throat and neatly taps the stack of papers in his hands to straighten them out. “I assure you, Vic has retained my services for several years now. He wouldn’t have you here if it weren’t necessary.”
