Elena's POV
For a moment after the gunshot the world seemed to stop breathing.
Elena froze beside the monitors, her pulse hammering so loud it drowned out the storm outside. The red emergency light flickered overhead, turning everything into a nightmare painted in blood and shadow. Mateo whimpered beside her.
"Mommy?"
She forced herself to sound calm. "It's okay, sweetheart." It wasn't.
The monitors crackled again, static, then darkness. One by one the cameras failed until only the feed from the main staircase remained. Through the grainy blur she caught a glimpse of movement, a flash of black, a figure collapsing against the wall.
Dante.
Her heart stopped.
"Stay here" she whispered to Mateo.
He shook his head, gripping her sleeve. "No!"
"Listen to me" she said kneeling so their eyes met. "You remember how Dante told us this room is safe? You have to keep it that way. Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone. Not even me, unless I say the word storm. Got it?"
Tears welled in his eyes but he nodded.
She kissed his forehead, stood and reached for the small pistol Dante had left on the shelf, heavy, unfamiliar but steady in her hand. She'd never fired a gun before. She prayed she wouldn't have to now.
The hallway outside was colder than before. The power had failed completely, the only light came from the occasional flash of lightning through distant windows. The air smelled of rain and something metallic, sharp and wrong.
She moved carefully, one hand brushing the wall for balance. Each step echoed louder than it should have.
When she reached the base of the staircase she saw him.
Dante was slumped against the wall, one hand pressed to his shoulder, dark blood seeping through his shirt.
"Dante!"
His head lifted at the sound of her voice. "Elena…. I told you to stay below."
She dropped to her knees beside him ignoring the command. "You're bleeding."
"It's not fatal." His voice was rough but his eyes stayed sharp. "He's still here."
"Who?"
He didn't answer immediately. He gestured weakly toward the hall. "Help me up."
She slid an arm under his, helping him stand. His weight was solid but she could feel the tremor in his muscles.
"Who did this?" she pressed again.
"Someone who knew where to aim" he said. "Shoulder, not heart. A warning shot."
Her stomach twisted. "That means…."
"They weren't here to kill me. Not yet."
He took the pistol from her hand, checking the safety with practiced ease before handing it back. "Keep that pointed at the floor unless you mean it."
"Dante…."
He turned sharply at a sound, footsteps. Slow. Careful. Coming from the far end of the corridor.
Elena held her breath.
A figure emerged from the shadows, tall, familiar. Marco.
Dante's second in command.
"Boss" Marco said, raising his hands. "You're hurt."
Dante's voice went flat. "Where were you?"
"With the gate team. We lost comms…."
"Liar."
The word cracked through the air. Elena flinched at the sound of it, colder than thunder, more dangerous than the gun in his hand.
Marco hesitated, eyes flicking toward her, then back to Dante. "You think I did this?"
"I don't think." Dante raised his weapon. "I know."
Elena's heart pounded. "Dante, wait…."
He didn't move, didn't blink. "You were the only one who had access to the grid. You ordered the power reroute this afternoon. You knew exactly when the systems would fail."
Marco took a step forward, palms still open. "You don't understand. I was ordered…."
"By who?" Dante's voice cut like a blade.
Marco hesitated. Then, quietly, "By Vincenzo's brother."
The name hit like another gunshot.
Elena didn't know the details but she'd heard enough, Vincenzo, the traitor from before. The one Dante had said was dead.
"His brother's alive?" she asked, disbelief breaking through her fear.
Marco nodded. "He wants what Vincenzo wanted, control. He said he'd let me walk away if I opened the door for him tonight."
Dante's jaw tightened. "And you believed him."
"I had no choice. He has my family…."
Dante didn't lower the gun. "You always have a choice."
For a heartbeat no one moved. Rain hammered against the windows, thunder rolling closer. Then, footsteps again. Not from the hall this time, but the stairwell behind them.
Dante turned just as another shot rang out.
Marco crumpled.
The shooter stepped into the light.
It wasn't a stranger.
It was Lucia.
Elena's breath caught. "Lucia?"
The housekeeper's eyes were wild, her face pale. "He would've killed you both," she said, her voice shaking. "I heard everything. He was going to open the gate."
Dante exhaled slowly, lowering his weapon. "You shouldn't have done that."
Lucia's voice broke. "I couldn't let him…."
Dante moved forward, checking Marco's pulse. "He's still alive. Call the medic."
Lucia hesitated, then nodded and ran.
When she was gone, silence settled again, thick and heavy.
Elena looked at Dante. "You knew, didn't you? About him."
"I suspected."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "Because I needed to see how far he'd go. And because I didn't want you in the crossfire."
Her throat tightened. "You almost died."
He gave a faint, humorless smile. "Almost doesn't count."
She stepped closer, her voice low. "You keep saying that like it's supposed to make me feel better."
"I don't do comfort Elena."
"I've noticed."
He met her eyes then and something unspoken passed between them, something raw and unguarded. The tension that had always existed between them, sharp and electric, softened into something deeper.
"You should have stayed in the safe room" he said but the words didn't sound like a reprimand.
"And you should have told me the truth."
A faint tremor passed through his shoulders, pain or emotion, she couldn't tell. She reached out instinctively, her hand brushing his uninjured arm.
For a moment neither of them moved. His breath caught. Her pulse raced.
"I thought I'd lost you" she whispered.
"You'd have been fine."
"That's not what I meant."
He looked down at her, eyes dark and unreadable. "Elena…"
Whatever he was about to say was lost in the sound of sirens, distant, growing louder.
"The city police?" she asked.
"No" he said grimly. "My men."
She frowned. "You called them?"
"I didn't have to." He straightened, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder. "When the estate goes dark this long they come. It means someone breached protocol."
"Then what happens now?"
He looked past her toward the rain streaked window. "Now we clean up the mess. And I find Vincenzo's brother before he finds us."
Her voice trembled. "And me? What happens to me?"
He turned back to her and for the first time his expression softened completely.
"You stay where I can see you."
She swallowed. "Is that protection or control?"
"It's the same thing" he said quietly. "At least in my world."
She wanted to argue, to say she didn't belong in his world at all but when he looked at her, tired, bleeding, unguarded, the words caught in her throat.
He stepped closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of wet hair from her face. "You shouldn't have come for me" he murmured.
"You'd have done the same."
"Maybe" he said. "But I'm not the one with something to lose."
She looked up at him, her heart pounding. "You think I don't?"
Their eyes locked. The storm outside broke again, lightning flashing through the window a harsh, brilliant light that caught them both mid breath, frozen between danger and something dangerously close to love.