Chapter 7 - The Ledger of Blood
Elena stared at the red leather notebook sitting between them on the polished mahogany table.
Outside, the jet began its smooth descent through the clouds toward the private landing strip at Long Island.
“You’re crazy,” Elena whispered, her hands trembling under the cashmere blanket. “You spent three years guarding this family’s secrets with blood. If I hand this to the District Attorney, you go to prison for twenty years.”
“Then hand it over,” Matteo said flatly, his eyes unblinking, fixed on hers. “I would rather spend twenty years in a federal cell knowing you and my child are alive and safe in Switzerland, than spend one more day in that penthouse knowing you hate me.”
Elena felt a sharp, suffocating pressure in her chest.
For three years, she had prayed for this man to show emotion. She had begged the universe for a sign that beneath the cold, impenetrable exterior of the Bellini Don lived a man who possessed a heart.
Now, sitting in a private jet four miles above the Atlantic, he was offering her his entire empire—his life, his freedom, his name—on a silver platter just to prove he loved her.
“I don't hate you, Matteo,” Elena whispered, tears welling in her eyes once again. “I hated the silence. I hated feeling invisible.”
Matteo reached out, his long, scarred fingers gently taking her right hand, lifting it to his chest, pressing her palm directly against the firm, rhythmic beat of his heart.
“You were never invisible to me, Elena,” Matteo said, his voice dropping into an intimate, gravelly frequency. “Every night when I came home late from meetings, I stood at the doorway of your bedroom and watched you sleep. Every time I held your hand at those galas, I was terrified that if I squeezed too hard, you would realize what a monster I really am and run away.”
He kissed her palm, his warm lips sending a shockwave of heat straight down her spine.
“I didn't know how to love you, Elena,” he confessed softly. “My father taught me how to take territory, how to command men, and how to survive a war. He never taught me how to hold a gentle woman without breaking her.”
Elena looked into his eyes, seeing for the first time the deep, buried pain of a man who had been raised in a world of violence and shadows.
Before she could speak, the steward pulled open the privacy door, his face pale.
“Boss,” the steward said urgently. “We just got a message from the Long Island estate. Your uncle’s old captains... they’ve joined forces with Sully O’Connor. They know the jet is landing in twenty minutes.”
Matteo’s eyes instantly turned back into cold steel. He didn't let go of Elena’s hand, but his posture went rigid.
“How many?” Matteo asked coldly.
“Three boat crews at the harbor dock,” the steward reported. “And two strike teams waiting at the airfield perimeter.”
Matteo looked down at Elena, his jaw clenching tightly.
“They think the ledger is on this plane,” Elena said, her eyes widening with sudden realization. “They don't just want to destroy you, Matteo. They want to eliminate anyone who knows what’s inside it.”
Matteo stood up, pulling her gently to her feet with him.
“They won't get the ledger,” Matteo said, his voice dropping into a register of absolute, terrifying resolve. “And they certainly won't get you.”
He reached into the mahogany cabinet beside his chair, pulling out a heavy steel briefcase, and tossed the red leather notebook inside, locking the combination seal with a sharp click.
May you like
He handed the briefcase to Elena.
“When we land,” Matteo commanded, looking into her eyes with a fierce, possessive fire, “you stay inside the armored transport with my personal security detail. I am going to end this war tonight.”
