Nine Years of Silence

At the DeLuca Family banquet announcing its new advisor, Matteo said he was going to end nine years of secrecy and finally acknowledge our relationship in public. I stood in the back row of the banquet hall, so nervous I'd crumpled my prepared speech into a ball. Over nine years, I'd cleaned up the port books for him three times, negotiated two cross-border shipping routes, and taken a bullet for him. Everyone knew the DeLuca Family had a female advisor who never showed her face, but no one knew I was that woman. I thought that after tonight, I would finally stop being his shadow. Until the screen at the front of the banquet hall lit up. There was no photo of us. Instead, there was only a single line of gilded text: Welcome Cecilia Costa as the Deluca Family’s New Advisor. May the Black Serpent and the Silver Fox Share in Glory From this Day Forward. Cecilia was my sister. Our parents sat at the head table, beaming with pride as they led the applause. Matteo produced the black diamond ring that marked the matriarch of the DeLuca Family and slid it onto my sister's ring finger. I moved to confront him, but my mother, Viviana, seized my wrist. "Elena, don't you dare make a scene. Nine years, and if Matteo had ever really intended to marry you, you'd have been at the head table a long time ago." I stared at her in disbelief. "You all knew?" My mother's expression faltered for a split second before she looked away. "Matteo discussed it with us a long time ago. He needed a wife who could publicly represent the Costa Family. Your sister was the better choice." I looked down at the red marks the crumpled speech had pressed into my fingers, remembering what Matteo had said nine years ago when he'd hidden me away in that safe apartment in Brooklyn. "Bear with me for now. Once my position as Don is secure, I'll show every last one of them what it looks like when I favor someone." The favor I'd waited nine years for had already gone to my sister. And I was the last to know. Chapter 1 My mother's nails dug into my wrist. "Your sister pushed you out of the way in that warehouse explosion and scarred her leg for life," she hissed. "Now she wants Matteo, so you step aside. Consider it paying her back." Thunderous applause filled the hall, and the band struck up a celebratory melody. Matteo stood in the spotlight holding Cecilia's hand, the Silver Fox and the Black Serpent projected on the wall behind them. It looked like a union that already had everyone's blessing. The people at my table gazed at my sister with envy. Occasionally someone's eyes drifted to me, then quickly looked away. To them, I was just an ordinary advisor who handled contracts and accounts for the DeLuca Family, not even important enough to sit at the inner circle's table. Nine years. Nine years of youth, loyalty, and blood, and in their eyes, I wasn't even worth an explanation. After the banquet ended, I slipped into the empty back stairwell. No cameras, no Family attendants, just the muffled bass of music bleeding through the walls. I leaned against the cold concrete, gasping, and before a single tear could fall, a pair of arms closed around me from behind. Matteo. He held me tight, the way he always did after he'd hurt me, his chin resting on top of my head, his voice carrying a faint tremor of apology. "Elena, I'm sorry. I know tonight was hard on you. Cecilia just got back from Europe, and her last marriage ended badly. Your parents said she couldn't handle any more stress. That ring is just a promise of protection between the Families, a token of her new position." He smoothed the furrow between my brows, his tone so gentle it almost passed for devotion. "You're the one who stood by me through the worst of it. You're the only person I want to spend my life with. Just give me a little more time. Once the port alliance settles, I'll sort everything out." I'd heard that speech so many times over nine years that I could recite his pauses from memory. If I hadn't noticed the crest on his tie clip, I might have forgiven him again. It was a black serpent coiled around a silver fox's tail, the betrothal emblem of the DeLuca and Costa families. Three months ago, I'd had a tie clip custom-made for him: a laurel branch twined around a black serpent. The laurel stood for my name and for the nine years we'd weathered together. He'd said it was too precious to wear and had locked it away at the very bottom of his safe. It wasn't that he couldn't bear to wear it. He simply had no use for it. I finally understood. Tonight wasn't a charade forced on him by my parents. He'd planned every detail. He'd already swapped out the emblem he wore closest to his body, and all that was left was to see whether I'd swallow it the way I always had. "Thank you for letting me have the advisor position, Elena." Cecilia clicked into the stairwell in her heels, smiling as she looped her arm through mine. "Mom and Dad were right. You've always been the sensible one. You're used to working behind the scenes anyway. Me stepping into the spotlight won't stop you from helping Matteo." My parents, Enzo and Viviana, came in behind her. Enzo's face was stone-cold. "Everyone out there has already accepted that Matteo is your sister's fiance. Watch yourself from now on, and stop seeing him alone. The Costa Family can't afford that kind of embarrassment." Matteo frowned slightly, as if he wanted to say something on my behalf. But Cecilia started coughing right on cue, her face going pale as she gripped the railing. Matteo let go of me instantly and draped his jacket over her shoulders. "Why are you coughing so hard? Didn't I tell you your lungs were damaged and you can't be around cold air?" She leaned weakly into his arms. "It's probably just the air conditioning in the hall. I'm fine." "Stop pretending you're okay. Let's go home. I'll have the private doctor come over." Matteo scooped her up and strode toward the basement garage. My parents followed. My mother tossed one last line over her shoulder as she left. "Get yourself a cab, and don't cause any trouble." No one looked back. I stood in the shadows of the stairwell like someone who had never existed. I didn't even know when Matteo had started calling my parents' estate "our home," or when Cecilia had become so comfortable leaning into his arms as though she belonged there. By the time I got back to the safe apartment where we'd lived together for nine years, it was past one in the morning. Matteo's hand-drawn plans were still taped to the wall: take the South Pier first, then clean out the lieutenants who'd betrayed him. Once the Family was stable, we'd move to Long Island. If we ever had children, a boy would be Luca, a girl Lucia. Nine years ago, I'd read those words and believed I was looking at our future. Now they just seemed ridiculous. I went into the study, powered on the computer that was connected only to internal lines, and opened an encrypted invitation I'd received three months ago. It was from the Bellano Family. They were the DeLuca Family's biggest rival in New York but also a longtime backer of the Geneva Neutral Tribunal. They'd invited me to serve as their chief cross-border advisor and promised to send me to Geneva for arbitrator training. I'd already turned them down once, for Matteo's sake. This time, I stared at the screen for a long while, then typed my reply. "I've changed my mind. If the offer still stands, I can start at the beginning of next month." Chapter 2 In the middle of the night, I heard the front door unlock. Matteo came back carrying a paper bag. He still smelled of Cecilia's sweet perfume, yet he walked up to me as though nothing had happened and cupped my face in his hands. "Elena, I know tonight was rough on you. I stopped by your favorite restaurant and picked up pesto pasta. You said once that a single bite could make any bad day better." He opened the container, and the heavy scent of basil and pine nuts filled the room. I glanced down. That restaurant made its pesto with roasted pine nuts. Three years ago, I'd accidentally eaten pine nuts and my throat had swollen shut. I'd spent the whole night being resuscitated at the Family hospital. Matteo had stood outside the door the entire time, nearly drawing his gun on the doctor and demanding that he stake his own life on saving mine. There was no way he'd forgotten. But pesto was Cecilia's favorite. "Matteo, I'm allergic to pine nuts." My voice was perfectly calm. He froze. The smile faded from his face inch by inch. "I'm sorry, Elena. Between Cecilia and the port alliance, I've been so exhausted I can't think straight. I'm a goddamn idiot. I'll have someone bring something else right now." "Don't bother. I'm going to bed." My calm rattled him. He grabbed me and pulled me close, his voice cracking. "Don't look at me like that. Yell at me, hit me, put a bullet in me if you want. Just don't go quiet on me like this." He tightened his arms around me like a man clinging to a lifeline. "Your birthday's next week. I'll take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. We've been talking about that trip for five years. This time, I promise, it'll just be the two of us." I didn't struggle. I didn't respond. I was just thinking about how many times I'd heard "one last time" over the past nine years. The next morning, the DeLuca Family held its regular inner-circle meeting. When I walked into the boardroom, several capos were already seated around the long table. Matteo visibly relaxed at the sight of me. He still thought I was the same old Elena, that as long as I showed up the next day like nothing had happened, everything could be swept under the rug. He set a cup of warm milk by my hand and leaned in, lowering his voice. "We won't let the meeting run late today. Afterward, I'm taking you to dinner." So tender, so intimate, as if he weren't the same man who'd slipped a ring on another woman's finger in front of every Family in the city just last night. I pushed the cup aside and opened the ledger in front of me. The meeting quickly got down to business. Matteo pointed to the shipping routes on the wall, switching to his all-business Don's tone. "Cecilia just joined the inner circle, and she doesn't have a single route that commands respect. The men under her are bound to push back." His finger landed on the North Sea port route. "So starting today, the Montero Family's cross-border shipping line and all warehouse access will be transferred to Cecilia. Elena, hand over every account, password, and agreement you've been managing." The room went dead silent. Everyone in that room knew I'd spent three years negotiating that route. It carried nearly forty percent of the DeLuca Family's legitimate shipping revenue and was tied to the most sensitive interests of several European crime families. The Montero Family's leadership was deeply suspicious by nature. Their contracts were rigged with dozens of breach traps, and a single misstep during the handover could be treated as an act of betrayal. I looked up at Matteo. "Cecilia has never handled a cross-border port agreement, and she's had no contact with the Montero Family. Are you sure you want her stepping in cold?" Matteo's expression darkened, but he kept that sickeningly gentle tone. "It's her first day in the inner circle. Only a route at this level will make people take her seriously. You're her own sister. Coaching her behind the scenes would be nothing for someone with your ability." Cecilia's eyes immediately welled up. She stood and tugged at my sleeve. "Elena, if you don't want to, I won't take it. I can live with people thinking I only got in because of Matteo and Dad. I don't want one shipping route to come between us." The moment she finished that calculated show of backing down, Matteo yanked my hand off her and shielded her behind him. "Elena, look how much she cares about your feelings. You're more than capable enough to negotiate new routes. She just went through a divorce and needs to establish herself in the Family. Do you really not understand what it means to support your own flesh and blood?" That was how he always operated. He'd dress up plunder as a plea from the weak and paint my resistance as cruelty. I looked at them in silence for a few seconds, then unclasped the silver drive containing the route encryption keys from around my neck and pushed it across the table to Cecilia. "If the Don thinks you can handle it, then it's yours." I transferred the contact lists and account access along with it, my voice even. "I hope you can manage the handover and hold on to the route." Matteo blinked, then his eyes lit up with delight. "That's my Elena." He thought his tactics had worked once again. What he didn't know was that the Montero Family despised last-minute personnel changes and nepotism above all else. Every core clause in those contracts had been custom-drafted against the DeLuca Family's history of violations. Only I knew which terms could be touched and which codes must never be altered. What I'd handed over wasn't a golden shipping route. It was a ticking bomb capable of blowing up half the DeLuca Family's business. After the meeting, I excused myself early, claiming I wasn't feeling well. I'd barely gotten back to the apartment when Sophia called. "Elena, check your sister's Instagram right now. Didn't Matteo say he was taking you to Iceland?" I opened Cecilia's profile. She'd posted a photo of two first-class tickets to Iceland, booked for travel on my birthday. The caption read: Thank you, Matteo, for this Northern Lights trip. See you next week! The comments were flooded with congratulations from relatives and Family members on both sides. My father, my mother, uncles, aunts, even a few capos who owed me favors were all fawning over what a perfect couple they made. I stared at it for a long time, then closed the screen. This time, not a single tear came. Chapter 3 That afternoon, I started sorting through everything Matteo had given me over the years. The wooden brooch he'd claimed to have carved himself still had a factory batch number on the back. The vintage silver bracelet he'd said he'd picked out especially for me was available for less than twenty dollars at any flea market. The photo album he'd said took him three months to put together still had the print shop's sample watermark on two of the pages. All those years of his "thoughtfulness," and he hadn't even bothered to fake it properly. I stuffed everything into black garbage bags and tossed them into the dumpster downstairs. That evening, my mother called and told me to come to the Costa estate. When I walked in, my father was by the fireplace, smoking. My mother skipped every pleasantry and shoved a property transfer agreement in front of me. "Sign it." I looked down at the address. It was my Manhattan apartment, the one I'd saved up for bit by bit over nine years from my cut as advisor. The place didn't belong to any Family, and not a single dollar of Matteo's money had gone into it. I'd planned to make it our real home once he went public with our relationship. "Your sister and Matteo are holding a Family wedding next month," my mother said. "That apartment is close to DeLuca headquarters with good security. Think of it as an engagement gift from her sister." I stared at the signature line and didn't move. My mother's tone turned cold. "Cecilia scarred her leg and damaged her lungs pushing you out of that exploding warehouse. You owe her your life. All we're asking for is one apartment, and you're still not satisfied?" I clenched my fists until my knuckles went white. For nine years, all they'd had to do was bring up that explosion and I'd cave. A dress Cecilia wanted, a place at the school, shares my father controlled, even public acknowledgment from Matteo: I'd been pressured to give up every one of them. But a life debt shouldn't be a blank check to drain me dry forever. Just then, the front door swung open. Matteo walked in carrying supplements he'd brought for Cecilia. The moment he saw the agreement on the table, his face darkened. He crossed to my side in a few strides and snatched the pen from my mother's hand. "How can you pressure Elena like this? She bought that apartment herself. Nobody has the right to give it away for her." He frowned, his tone brooking no argument. "I'll take care of Cecilia's housing. The apartment stays." My mother looked embarrassed. Matteo turned and took my hand, softening his voice. "Elena, don't be upset. See? I'm still on your side. We're not giving her the apartment. It's just a place to live. How could it compare to what we have?" I looked at him and suddenly found the whole thing absurd. He probably thought he was being romantic. Back me into a corner with everyone else, then step up to shield me just enough to earn my gratitude and guilt. I pulled my hand free, picked up the pen, and signed my name on the agreement. "She can have the apartment. But I have one condition." I pushed the agreement back to my mother. "Starting today, I don't owe Cecilia a thing. The Costa Family's business, debts, and survival are no longer my concern, and I won't set foot in this house again." My mother snatched the agreement, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. "Now that's more like it." She shot me a look, muttered "ungrateful" under her breath, and dragged my father out of the living room as if afraid I'd change my mind. Matteo stood frozen. It took him a few seconds to react. "Elena, are you throwing a tantrum? If she gets the apartment, where are we supposed to live?" "That's your problem, Mr. DeLuca." I turned and walked into the bedroom I'd once slept in and dug a wooden ring box out of the bottom drawer of the desk. Matteo had carved it himself over three sleepless nights at the start of our relationship. He'd said that one day, a real Family ring would go inside. I didn't hesitate. I snapped it in half and dropped it in the trash. As the broken pieces fell, I noticed a medical report from a private clinic at the bottom of the trash can. Patient: Cecilia Costa. Six weeks pregnant. Father: Matteo DeLuca. The date was one month ago, right when Matteo had spent several consecutive nights away from the apartment, claiming he'd been settling accounts at the pier. My fingertips went cold, inch by inch. I carried the report back to the living room and slapped it on the table in front of him. Matteo's face went white. He stared at the paper, his lips trembling, and his knees buckled. He dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around my legs. "Elena, let me explain. I was drunk that night, and Cecilia was wearing your jacket and your perfume. I thought she was you." His eyes were red-rimmed, tears spilling down his face, his composure gone. "I wanted to kill myself afterward, but she ended up pregnant. She's miscarried before. The doctor said if anything goes wrong this time, she might never be able to have children again. I had to take responsibility." He kept talking, one excuse after another, pushing the blame onto the alcohol, onto Cecilia's perfume, onto some notion of a man's duty, and finally, back onto me. "You've always been the kindest person I know, and no one understands me the way you do. You'll forgive me, won't you? I can marry her in public, but you'll always be the one I love." I looked down at him like I was looking at a piece of rotting meat. So he didn't just want me to accept his betrayal. He wanted me to willingly remain his secret lover and spend the rest of my life cleaning up after him and my sister. I reached down and pried his fingers off my legs, one by one. "Fine. I forgive you." My voice was soft. Hope flared in Matteo's eyes. I put on my coat and walked toward the door. "So enjoy Iceland next week." He was still on his knees, staring blankly, probably convinced I was only putting up a front and that once my anger cooled, I'd go back to the safe apartment. He didn't know I'd already booked my ticket out of New York. Chapter 4 Two days later, I signed the last handover document at DeLuca headquarters. From that moment on, I was no longer their advisor, and I was no longer responsible for any accounts, routes, or secrets. Just as the elevator doors were closing, Cecilia stepped in, heels clicking. She ran a hand over her belly, not bothering to hide her smile. "You saw the report, didn't you? Nine years of hiding with Matteo, and he never gave you a child, let alone a Family ring. It's time to let go. Think of it as payback for my leg." I looked at her. "You really think that explosion is going to protect you forever?" Her expression shifted. She opened her mouth to respond, but a muffled boom rolled through the entire building. The elevator shuddered violently and the lights went out. Thick smoke poured in through the vents, the reek of gasoline so acrid I could barely keep my eyes open. The DeLuca Family had recently dealt with a contractor who'd defaulted on pier debts. The man's brother had slipped in during a security shift change and hurled Molotov cocktails into the underground garage. The fire had raced up the pipes and jammed the private elevator between floors. Cecilia screamed and pressed herself into the corner. I hit the emergency call button but heard nothing except crackling static. My phone had no signal inside the smoke-filled elevator, so I fumbled an encrypted phone out of her bag. I dialed Matteo's number. He picked up almost instantly. "Cecilia?" His voice was bright with warmth. "I've been waiting for you downstairs. What's taking so long?" My heart clenched anyway. Even after I'd decided to leave, nine years of habit still lived in my body. "It's me." I choked back a cough. "The private elevator is trapped by the fire. Cecilia and I are both inside." "Elena?" His voice turned urgent. "Don't be afraid. Tell me what floor. I'm coming with a team right now." The smoke grew thicker. The metal ceiling panel was scorching hot. Cecilia cried out, clutching her belly. I pressed my jacket over the vent and dragged her to the corner farthest from the heat. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. My vision blurred. My chest felt like it was packed with burning sand. When the cutting tool finally pried the elevator doors open, I heard Matteo roar from outside. "Get Cecilia out first! She's pregnant!" The Family doctor and enforcers carried her out immediately. I slumped against the elevator wall, too weak to walk. By the time the second group dragged me out, the lobby was chaos. Through the haze, I saw Matteo on one knee, clutching Cecilia, who didn't have a scratch on her. "Don't be scared. I'm here. The baby's going to be fine. Whoever did this, I'll make their whole family disappear from New York." He held her so tight, as if they were the only two people left in the world. He didn't let go of Cecilia until he saw me being dragged out. Then he flinched as if burned and staggered toward me. "Elena, I'm sorry. I thought you'd had training, that you could last longer than her. Cecilia's pregnant, and she saved your life once. You don't mind, right?" I stared into his eyes and used every ounce of strength I had left to shake off his hand. "Matteo, your love is filthy." My voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human. "So filthy it makes me sick." His whole body went rigid. For the first time, real panic showed on his face. He reached for me again, as though holding me could somehow prove something. But the phone clipped to my waist slipped free and smashed onto the marble floor. The screen lit up, a ticket confirmation filling the display. Your flight has been confirmed. Destination: Geneva. Matteo's body locked up. His eyes fixed on the screen. "You're going to Geneva?" "Matteo, my stomach hurts." Cecilia suddenly clutched her belly and slowly sagged to the floor, her toe kicking my phone neatly into the shadows. Matteo spun around, scooped her up, and rushed toward the first ambulance without looking back. At that moment, a sharp, twisting pain tore through my own lower belly. I looked down and saw blood slowly spreading across my skirt. Then everything went black. When I woke, the Family doctor told me I'd been pregnant. The excessive smoke inhalation, combined with the delay in getting oxygen and stopping the bleeding, meant the baby didn't survive. I'd been lying in the hospital room for a full day before Matteo finally rushed through the door. "Elena, I'm sorry. Cecilia had abdominal pain yesterday, and the doctor thought she might be having a miscarriage. I couldn't leave her." He sat down by the bed, eyes red, and tried to take my hand. "I know this is unfair to you, but she's pregnant, and she's your own sister. You've always been the stronger one. Can't you just cut her some slack?" He paused, as if offering me the ultimate promise. "That pregnancy was an accident. My body and my heart will always belong to you." I pulled my hand away and stared at the white ceiling. My heart had been hollowed out so completely that I couldn't even feel the pain anymore. After Matteo left, I contacted the account manager in Geneva. Over the past few days, I'd liquidated every investment I had in New York and separated every joint fund I shared with Matteo, one by one. My share went to Europe. Every last cent of his was wired back to the DeLuca Family accounts. On the final transfer, I wrote just one line in the memo. "Nine years settled. We owe each other nothing."