Chapter 4 - The Estate
The gates to the Vitali estate were massive structure of blackened iron, towering fifteen feet high and topped with sharp, stylized pikes. They swung open automatically as the Maybach approached, closing behind us with a heavy, final sound that felt like the slamming of a vault door.
The driveway wound through acres of manicured estate grounds—thick oak trees, immaculate lawns covered in a light frost, and stone fountains that sat still in the cold afternoon air. At the center of the estate stood a massive limestone mansion that looked like an old Italian villa transported directly to the shores of Lake Michigan.
The car stopped beneath a stone porte-cochère.
Before I could move, Alessandro opened his door and stepped out, holding his hand out to me. "Come."
I looked at his open palm. His skin was lined, his knuckles slightly bruised from some conflict I didn't want to know about, but his hand was steady. I ignored it, stepping out of the car on my own, my diner uniform making me feel utterly ridiculous against the backdrop of such obscene wealth.
Alessandro didn't look offended. He simply closed his hand, turned, and led the way toward the grand double doors of the mansion.
The interior was staggering. Marble floors polished to a mirror shine, soaring ceilings with intricate plasterwork, and grand oil paintings depicting scenes of old Italy. But despite its beauty, the house felt cold, quiet, and sterile. There were no family photos on the mantle, no magazines left on the tables. It was a fortress, not a home.
An older woman wearing a crisp black dress and an apron stepped forward from the shadows of the foyer. She had gray hair pulled back into a tight bun and a severe, unreadable face.
"Welcome back, Don Alessandro," she said, bowing her head slightly.
"Elena," Alessandro acknowledged. "This is Emma. She will be living here indefinitely. She is carrying my child."
Elena’s eyes widened slightly—the only slip in her otherwise stoic composure—before she bowed her head lower. "Understood, sir. The East Wing guest suite has been prepared as you requested."
"Take her up," Alessandro ordered. "Ensure she has everything she needs. Clothing, food, medical supplies. A doctor will arrive at six to conduct a full examination."
"Wait," I interjected, taking a step forward. "I don't need a doctor right now. I need my clothes, my books, my..."
"Your belongings are being packed and brought here as we speak," Alessandro said, turning to face me. "Except for anything that connects you to your old life. You will be provided with new clothing, new devices, and a secure phone line that can only call internal numbers."
"You're stripping away my identity!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the high marble walls. "You can't just erase who I am!"
Alessandro took two steps toward me, closing the distance between us until he was standing so close I had to tilt my head back to look into his eyes.
"I am keeping you alive, Emma," he said in a low, dangerous murmur. "Your old identity was a waitress who lived in a firetrap apartment with a roommate who couldn't protect you if someone came through the door with a gun. That life is over. Here, you are safe."
"I was safe before you found me!"
"You were never safe," he countered coldly. "You just didn't know you were in danger."
He turned on his heel and walked toward a pair of heavy mahogany doors at the end of the hall—his office, presumably. The doors clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the vast foyer with Elena.
The old woman looked at me, her expression softening just a fraction. "This way, Miss Emma. Please."
I followed her up a grand curved staircase, my mind reeling. The East Wing of the mansion was a sprawling suite of rooms: a massive bedroom with a king-sized bed wrapped in ivory silk, a private sitting room with a fireplace, a walk-in closet larger than my entire bedroom at Liam's apartment, and an en-suite bathroom featuring a deep soaking tub made of white marble.
"If you require anything, press the button beside the bed," Elena said, pointing to a small brass panel on the wall. "Dinner will be served at seven. Don Alessandro expects you to join him in the dining room."
"And if I refuse?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
Elena paused at the door, turning back to give me a sad, knowing look. "Don Alessandro is a patient man with many things, Miss Emma. But he does not like to eat alone. I advise you not to make your life here harder than it needs to be."
She walked out, closing the door softly behind her.
I stood in the center of the luxurious room, feeling like an exotic bird trapped in a gilded cage. I ran over to the tall French doors that led out to a balcony overlooking the gardens. I pulled on the handle.
Locked.
I looked down. The balcony was twenty feet off the ground, and standing near the edge of the terrace below were two men in suits, their sharp eyes scanning the perimeter.
May you like
There was no way out.
Exhausted, overwhelmed, and sick to my stomach, I walked over to the bed and collapsed onto the silk sheets. I buried my face in a pillow, clutching my stomach as the tears finally came in a relentless, unstoppable torrent. I was trapped in the lion's den, carrying the lion's child, and the worst part was that I was still keeping a secret that could tear this entire empire apart if Alessandro ever discovered the truth about who I really was.
