Chapter 5 - The Enemy Sitting at the Family TableVictor had killed men for less than the expression Helen wore.
Smug.
Certain.
The kind of certainty that came from believing someone else cared too much to act.
That was Helen's mistake.
She believed Victor's feelings for Emily made him weak.
They made him precise.
Victor lowered his gun slowly.
Helen smiled wider.
“Good.”
Emily's eyes moved toward Victor.
No fear.
Calculation again.
He knew that look now.
“Kick it away,” Helen ordered.
Victor obeyed.
The gun slid across the floor.
Helen pulled Emily backward.
“Where is the recording?”
Emily answered calmly.
“Which one?”
Helen's face tightened.
Victor understood.
Emily was stalling.
“The recording Daniel made.”
“I don't have it.”
“Adrian says you do.”
“Adrian says many things.”
Helen struck Emily's wounded shoulder with the pistol.
Emily cried out.
Victor moved.
Helen pointed the gun toward him.
“One more step.”
He stopped.
Something monstrous rose behind his ribs.
Emily caught his eyes.
Barely shook her head.
Wait.
Helen dragged her toward the rear door.
“Victor stays.”
Emily laughed weakly.
“You're terrible at hostage negotiation.”
“Quiet.”
“No, really. You're giving him time to think.”
Helen looked down.
Mistake.
Emily slammed her heel onto Helen's foot.
Then threw her weight sideways.
The pistol fired.
Victor crossed the room.
He hit Helen before she could aim again.
She crashed against the wall.
Victor struck her wrist until the gun fell.
Then his hand closed around her throat.
“Who else knows this location?”
Helen choked.
Victor tightened his grip.
“Who?”
Emily grabbed his arm.
“Victor.”
He did not stop.
“Victor.”
Her voice cut through the rage.
He looked at her.
She was holding her shoulder again.
Blood had begun to seep through the bandage.
“She's more useful alive.”
Victor released Helen.
She collapsed, coughing.
“Take her downstairs,” he ordered.
His men dragged her away.
Victor turned immediately to Emily.
“Sit.”
“I'm okay.”
“You're bleeding.”
“That happens when people hit bullet wounds.”
Victor stared.
Emily sighed.
“Fine.”
He helped her into the chair.
His hands were shaking.
Emily noticed.
“You're angry.”
“I nearly watched you get shot again.”
“She didn't shoot me.”
“Because you fought her.”
“Yes.”
“That is not comforting.”
Emily studied him.
“You're worried.”
Victor met her eyes.
“Yes.”
The honesty silenced them both.
He knelt and checked the dressing.
Emily watched his face.
Three years ago, if she had been injured, he would have sent a physician.
Two years ago, he might have asked a servant whether she needed anything.
One year ago, he would probably have heard about it the next day.
Now he was on his knees in a kitchen, hands trembling because someone had pressed a gun into her ribs.
Emily looked away first.
After Helen was secured, Victor interrogated her.
He did not use violence.
He did not need to.
Helen had spent years watching what happened to people who betrayed DeLuca interests.
Victor simply sat opposite her.
“You have two outcomes.”
Helen swallowed.
“Adrian wins and eventually kills you because you know too much.”
Victor leaned forward.
“Or Adrian loses and I decide whether you live.”
Helen stared.
“You're assuming he'll lose.”
Victor smiled without warmth.
“He kidnapped my mother and tried to kill my wife.”
He leaned closer.
“He has already lost.”
Helen broke twenty minutes later.
Adrian was holding Isabella at an abandoned riverside hotel.
But only temporarily.
He intended to move her before dawn.
The exchange at Pier Nine was a trap.
And Adrian had another target.
Marco Bellini.
“Why Marco?” Victor asked.
“Adrian believes Marco knows where Lorenzo hid additional evidence.”
“He doesn't.”
“Adrian doesn't know that.”
Victor stood.
“Anything else?”
Helen hesitated.
Emily noticed.
“What?”
Helen looked at her.
“He knows about the contract.”
Victor stopped.
“What contract?”
“Not your marriage contract.”
Helen swallowed.
“Daniel's.”
Emily became still.
“My father's contract with Lorenzo?”
Helen nodded.
Victor turned.
“What was it?”
Emily looked confused.
“I don't know.”
Helen laughed nervously.
“Then your father hid more from you than you thought.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Explain.”
Helen did.
Years ago, Lorenzo DeLuca and Daniel Carter had created a legal contingency.
If evidence proved senior members of the syndicate had murdered Daniel, a group of legitimate DeLuca businesses would transfer into a trust.
The beneficiary was Emily.
Not because Lorenzo intended to enrich her.
Because the trust contained voting control over companies Adrian needed to launder his operations.
Emily stared.
“That doesn't make sense.”
Helen shook her head.
“It does if your father and Lorenzo were trying to make the criminal network financially dependent on someone Adrian couldn't control.”
Victor understood.
“Emily.”
She looked at him.
“Your marriage changed the ownership structure.”
Her face went pale.
Helen nodded.
“Exactly.”
By marrying Victor, Emily had unknowingly combined her trust rights with Victor's controlling interests.
Together, they could dismantle the laundering network.
Separately, Adrian might seize pieces of it.
Victor sat slowly.
Their marriage had never been merely social.
Adrian suggested Emily because he wanted her within reach.
Isabella agreed because she wanted Emily protected.
Lorenzo and Daniel had created a legal weapon years before either Victor or Emily understood it.
Their so-called fake marriage sat directly over the fault line of an empire.
Victor laughed once.
No humor.
“All this time, I thought I was marrying her to unlock Mother's trust.”
Emily looked at him.
“And I thought I was marrying you to investigate Adrian.”
Helen whispered, “You were both wrong.”
Victor turned.
“What does Adrian need now?”
“Emily's signature.”
“For what?”
“To transfer the Carter trust.”
Victor's face hardened.
“And if she refuses?”
Helen looked toward Emily's wound.
“I think you know.”
Victor left the basement.
Emily followed him into the hallway.
“We have to get Isabella out tonight.”
“Yes.”
“You can't take the entire organization.”
“I know.”
“Adrian will see it coming.”
“I know.”
Emily studied him.
“You're agreeing with me too much.”
Victor looked at her.
“I'm trying something new.”
“What?”
“Listening.”
She almost smiled.
Victor spread maps across the kitchen table.
The abandoned hotel stood beside the river, surrounded by warehouses.
Two roads.
One dock.
Adrian would expect an attack from land.
Victor planned to enter from the river.
Marco joined through encrypted video.
When Victor saw his face, some tension left him.
“You're alive.”
Marco raised an eyebrow.
“Touching.”
“Helen said Adrian is targeting you.”
“I know. Two men tried to enter my house.”
“Family?”
“One.”
Victor's jaw tightened.
The corruption was wider than he feared.
“Can you trust your team?”
“Three men.”
“Bring them.”
Marco looked toward Emily.
“You all right?”
She nodded.
Victor answered anyway.
“No.”
Emily glared at him.
Marco almost smiled.
By 3:00 a.m., the rescue began.
Victor used an old fishing vessel without DeLuca markings.
Emily remained at the safe house.
At least, that was the plan.
Victor discovered she had ignored it when someone climbed aboard five minutes before departure.
He turned.
Emily wore dark clothing and carried a medical bag.
“No.”
She kept walking.
“No what?”
“You're staying.”
“My mother-in-law is being held by a criminal.”
“My criminal cousin.”
“Details.”
“You were shot yesterday.”
“And I'm still more useful medically than half your men.”
Victor blocked her path.
“You're not coming.”
Emily folded her arms.
“You don't own me.”
Technically, correct.
Emotionally, infuriating.
“Emily.”
“Victor.”
They stared at each other.
Marco muttered, “I suddenly understand marriage.”
Victor ignored him.
Emily stepped closer.
“Isabella took me in when I had nobody.”
Victor's expression softened.
“She protected me before you knew my name.”
“I knew your name.”
“You called me ‘my wife’ for three years.”
He had no reply.
Emily's eyes hardened.
“I am coming.”
Victor exhaled.
“Stay behind me.”
“No promises.”
The hotel was dark when they arrived from the river.
Victor's team entered through the lower kitchen.
Emily remained between Marco and two guards.
They reached the second floor without resistance.
Too easy.
Victor knew immediately.
“Trap.”
Lights exploded on.
Gunfire erupted.
They dove behind pillars.
Adrian's men fired from the upper balcony.
Victor returned fire.
Marco moved left.
Emily crawled toward a wounded guard and dragged him behind cover.
“Pressure here,” she ordered another man.
Victor saw her working.
No panic.
No hesitation.
The same woman he had once considered decorative at public functions was now keeping one of his soldiers alive under gunfire.
Victor felt shame burn beneath his ribs.
Then he saw Isabella.
She stood on the balcony.
Adrian held her arm.
A gun pressed beneath her jaw.
Victor stopped firing.
“Mother.”
Isabella rolled her eyes.
“Took you long enough.”
Adrian laughed.
“Even kidnapped, she criticizes everyone.”
Victor lowered his weapon.
“Let her go.”
“Bring Emily.”
“No.”
Adrian's smile widened.
“You don't even know what I want.”
“Yes, I do.”
Victor looked toward Emily.
“Her signature.”
Adrian's expression changed.
Helen had talked.
Victor smiled faintly.
“You always did choose weak partners.”
Adrian pressed the gun harder against Isabella.
“Emily comes up here or Aunt Isabella dies.”
Victor felt Emily step beside him.
“No,” he said.
Emily ignored him.
“I'll come.”
Victor turned.
“No.”
She met his eyes.
“Trust me.”
The words stopped him.
Emily walked toward the staircase.
Victor wanted to drag her back.
Instead, he trusted her.
For the first time.
Adrian watched her climb.
“There's the loyal wife.”
Emily reached the balcony.
Isabella looked furious.
“You should have stayed home.”
Emily smiled.
“So should you.”
Adrian shoved papers toward her.
“Sign.”
Emily took the pen.
Victor watched from below.
One wrong movement and Adrian could kill both women.
Emily bent over the page.
Then paused.
“This transfer isn't valid.”
Adrian frowned.
“What?”
“You used the old trust registration.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When I married Victor, the trust changed.”
Adrian looked toward the document.
Just as Emily intended.
Isabella moved first.
She drove the point of her cane into Adrian's foot.
Adrian shouted.
Emily threw the pen into his face.
Victor fired.
The bullet struck Adrian's gun hand.
His weapon fell.
Marco's men stormed the stairs.
Within seconds, Adrian was on the floor.
Victor reached his mother.
Isabella slapped him.
Victor blinked.
“What was that?”
“For taking too long.”
Then she hugged him.
Victor froze.
His arms closed around her.
Over Isabella's shoulder, he saw Emily.
She was leaning against the railing.
Pale.
Victor released his mother.
“Emily?”
Her knees buckled.
Victor caught her before she hit the floor.
Blood soaked the back of her jacket.
Not from the original wound.
A second wound.
Victor stared.
“No.”
Emily tried to speak.
“When?”
She looked toward the staircase.
“During the shooting.”
Victor lifted her into his arms.
“Doctor!”
Emily's eyes fluttered.
“Victor…”
“Stay awake.”
“You're shouting.”
“Yes.”
“Rude.”
His throat closed.
“Emily.”
She looked at him.
For once, he did not care who heard.
“Don't leave me.”
Her expression softened.
May you like
Then her eyes closed.
And Victor DeLuca, a man feared by half the city, carried his fake wife through a hallway screaming for someone to save the woman he had finally realized he could not live without.
Related Stories
