Chapter 5 - Bloodline and the Heir's Debt
The realization hit me with the weight of a tidal wave.
"You kept a dead number alive for two decades... just in case?"
"I promised your mother I would be there if you ever needed me," Stefano said, his voice dropping an octave, rich and velvet. "When I saw the text from your mother's old encrypted routing code, asking for company on your birthday... I knew my father's scouts were closing in on you. The timing was too precise."
I took a deep breath, trying to clear the fog in my mind. "So what happens now? Am I a prisoner here?"
"You are a guest," Stefano corrected firmly. "But outside these walls, Salvatore has put a five-million-dollar bounty on your head. He wants the bloodline secured. He has no other living heirs—except me."
"And he doesn't know you brought me here?"
"He will know by morning," Stefano said, walking toward the large arched window overlooking the courtyard. "Which gives us roughly six hours to prepare."
"Prepare for what?"
"A war," Stefano answered quietly. He turned back to me, his jaw set in stone. "My father is eighty years old, Elena. He rules through terror and paranoia. Half the capos in New York are ready to turn on him, but they need a reason. They need a legitimate heir to rally behind."
My eyes widened in terror. "No. Absolutely not! I am an archivist! I don't know how to run a mafia syndicate! I get anxious when I have to return an item at Target!"
Stefano couldn't help it—a small, rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He walked back to me, taking my hands in his. His touch was warm, solid, and strangely grounding.
"You won't run it," he murmured. "I will. But I need you by my side. I need the family to see Clara Vance's daughter standing next to me when I take the throne."
"And if I refuse?" I asked softly, searching his dark eyes. "If I want to go back to my quiet, lonely life?"
Stefano stared down at me for a long, silent moment. Slowly, he leaned down until his lips were brushing the shell of my ear.
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"If you want to leave, I will put you on a private jet to Europe tonight," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "I will give you ten million dollars and a security detail that will guard you until you're ninety. But if you walk out that door, Elena... I will have to burn my father's empire to the ground alone. And I might not survive it."
