Chapter 4 - The Man Elena Kept Calling a Mafia Boss
Elena knew the atmosphere had changed before the black SUV arrived.
Mateo did not raise his voice.
He did not panic.
That made it worse.
The easy irritation he had worn all day disappeared, replaced by something colder.
Sharper.
The man who had reluctantly eaten a cinnamon roll had vanished.
In his place stood someone who noticed every passing vehicle, every stranger approaching the sidewalk and every reflection in the glass behind Elena.
“You’re scaring me,” she said.
Mateo looked at her.
“That isn’t my intention.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
“I need to get you somewhere safe.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Safe from what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
The SUV stopped beside them.
A broad-shouldered man stepped out.
His attention went first to Mateo, then Elena, then the street.
“Boss—”
Mateo cut him off with a look.
But Elena heard it.
Her eyebrows lifted.
The man corrected himself.
“Mr. Romano.”
Elena stared at Mateo.
He opened the door.
“Get in.”
“You want to try that again?”
“Elena.”
“Ask.”
His jaw tightened.
She refused to move.
Even frightened, she would not let him suddenly start treating her like luggage.
Mateo exhaled.
“Please get in the car.”
“Better.”
She climbed inside.
The security man introduced himself as Luca.
He said almost nothing during the drive.
Mateo sat beside Elena and made several calls using clipped phrases that meant absolutely nothing to her.
“Check every camera.”
“Confirm whether the registration is real.”
“No direct contact yet.”
“Move Team Two.”
“Don’t use the main entrance.”
Elena finally interrupted.
“Either I’ve wandered into a spy movie or your real-estate business is much more exciting than advertised.”
Mateo ended the call.
“I’ll explain when we arrive.”
“At your office?”
“No.”
“Your house?”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms.
“And what exactly happened to the rule about doing what I wanted all day?”
“You wanted not to be followed.”
“I didn’t know I was being followed.”
“Now you do.”
She stared out the window.
That shut her up.
For three minutes.
Then she asked, “How long?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why?”
Mateo looked at her.
“We don’t know.”
“You’re extremely well informed.”
His mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Elena caught it.
“You nearly smiled.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know.”
She studied him.
“And that’s why I’m making jokes.”
Something shifted in his expression.
Recognition, perhaps.
Mateo looked away.
The city thinned as they drove north.
Elena expected a penthouse.
Maybe a townhouse.
She did not expect iron gates.
She definitely did not expect two security checkpoints.
When the gates opened, the SUV followed a long drive toward a stone estate surrounded by carefully maintained grounds.
There were cameras everywhere.
Men in dark suits moved between buildings.
Several black vehicles stood near a garage.
Elena slowly turned toward Mateo.
“You said house.”
“It is.”
“This is the house of a European dictator.”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“There is literally a guard tower.”
“It’s not a guard tower.”
“What is it?”
Mateo paused.
“Security observation.”
Elena stared at him.
“That’s a guard tower with better branding.”
Luca coughed, suspiciously close to a laugh.
Mateo glanced at him.
Luca immediately became serious.
Inside, the estate was quieter than Elena expected.
No gold statues.
No absurd displays of wealth.
Dark wood.
Stone.
Art.
Old family photographs.
Everything elegant but controlled.
Mateo led her into a library.
“I need to handle this.”
“You promised explanations.”
“You’ll get them.”
“When?”
“As soon as I know what I’m explaining.”
Elena put her shopping bags down.
Mateo looked at them.
“You carried those all day.”
“I noticed.”
“I took you shopping while someone followed us.”
“We didn’t know.”
“You did.”
He turned.
“What?”
“You’ve been suspicious since the bakery.”
Mateo’s silence answered.
Elena’s face changed.
“What happened at the bakery?”
“Your father’s name.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“My father?”
Before Mateo could answer, the door opened.
A man Elena had never seen entered quickly.
He was holding a folder.
His eyes went straight to Mateo.
“Boss.”
The word landed like a dropped glass.
No one moved.
Elena slowly turned her head toward Mateo.
Mateo closed his eyes for half a second.
Luca muttered something under his breath.
Elena pointed at Mateo.
“No.”
He said nothing.
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“Elena—”
“You’re actually a mafia boss.”
Mateo held her gaze.
The silence stretched.
“Mateo.”
“Yes.”
Elena covered her face with both hands.
“Oh my God.”
Nobody spoke.
Then something absurd happened.
Mateo laughed.
Not the almost-smiles she had been collecting all day.
Not a polite exhale.
A real laugh.
Warm.
Low.
Human.
Elena lowered her hands and stared at him.
“You think this is funny?”
“A little.”
“I fed you a cinnamon roll.”
“I remember.”
“I stole your watch.”
“You still have it.”
“I made an actual mafia boss carry discount shopping bags through Midtown.”
Luca turned away, shoulders shaking.
Elena pointed at him.
“Don’t encourage him.”
Mateo was still smiling.
And for one insane moment, Elena wanted to laugh too.
Then the man holding the folder placed it on the table.
“Boss, you need to see this.”
Mateo opened it.
His laughter disappeared.
Elena saw the first photograph.
Herself.
Leaving her office.
The second showed her walking to the market.
The third had been taken through another car’s windshield while she waited at a traffic light.
Her pulse slowed in the frightening way it sometimes did when fear became too large for immediate reaction.
She picked up a photograph.
“Someone has been following me.”
Mateo looked at her.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“We don’t know.”
The room no longer felt funny.
The bet no longer felt ridiculous.
And when Elena saw the next photograph, she understood that the day had never been as random as either of them believed.
Adrienne Romano stood in the picture.
May you like
Beside her was Victor Sanz.
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