Chapter 3 smoke and shadows

Leonardo's world was made of whispers. Information flowed to him faster than the law could catch its breath. So, when Matteo Romano showed up at Elena's apartment, Leonardo knew before Matteo had finished his espresso.

He stood on the balcony of his villa, the sea a steel mirror in the moonlight, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. Sandro, his most trusted consigliere, lingered by the French doors, hesitant.

"She didn't invite him," Sandro offered.

Leonardo exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl like phantom fingers into the night. "No," he murmured. "But she didn't throw him out either."

Sandro said nothing. He'd seen Leonardo kill men for less.

Leonardo turned to face him. "He's testing her."

"And you."

The Don's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "Let him test. She'll choose."

"And if she doesn't?"

Leonardo's eyes darkened. "Then Matteo won't live to see winter."

**

Elena sat in her apartment long after Matteo left, the air still humming with the weight of his words. She had always thought of him as a closed chapter - a harmless relic from another life. But tonight he had looked different. Harder. Like a man who had spent too long learning to smile while sharpening knives behind his back.

She finally picked up her phone and called Leo.

He answered on the first ring.

"I didn't know he would come," she said.

"I know."

"You had someone watching?"

He didn't deny it. "You're not just some woman to me, Elena. You're a target now. My enemies will use anything they can."

"Is that what I am? Bait?"

"No," he said quietly. "You're the only thing in this godforsaken life that doesn't feel like war."

The silence on the line turned soft. She closed her eyes, pressing the phone to her temple.

"I'm scared, Leo."

"So am I."

That admission from him - from Don Vitale - meant more than flowers, more than poetry. It meant vulnerability. It meant truth.

"Come to me," he said.

Elena hesitated. "I don't want to be hidden."

"Then I won't hide you."

"I want to walk beside you. Not behind."

Leonardo didn't answer for a long moment.

Then: "Then walk beside me. But understand, Elena... beside me is dangerous ground."

**

She arrived at the Vitale villa just after midnight.

The guards at the gates let her in with nods, respectful but curious. No woman had ever been allowed past the inner perimeter of Leonardo's private estate. Not since his mother's death.

Leonardo met her at the entrance. He wasn't in a suit tonight - just a black shirt, sleeves rolled, collar loose. Somehow, that made him even more dangerous. More real.

He didn't speak. Just looked at her like she was both a dream and a challenge. Then he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You came."

"I don't know if I'm brave," she whispered, "or just foolish."

"Both," he said, pulling her inside.

He led her through the house - through hallways filled with antique paintings and the scent of old smoke and older sins. She noticed everything. The twin lion statues at the stairwell. The brass frames holding photos of men who looked like Leonardo but colder, crueler. She stopped before one.

"Your father?" she asked.

Leonardo's jaw tensed. "He taught me everything I never wanted to be."

They reached the study - a room of shadows and warm wood. The fire crackled low, casting their silhouettes on the walls like echoes of something ancient.

"I don't know how to do this," Elena confessed.

"Neither do I," Leonardo said, stepping closer. "But I know I want to."

He kissed her then. Not with the practiced seduction of a man who took what he wanted, but with the reverence of a sinner who'd found salvation and didn't quite believe he deserved it.

She melted into him. For a moment, there was no Mafia. No danger. No Matteo.

Only the storm they created in each other.

**

But storms never last.

Three blocks away, Matteo sat in a parked car, watching the silhouette of the Vitale villa through binoculars. His driver, Luca, shifted in his seat.

"You sure about this?" Luca asked.

Matteo's lips curled. "If she's in that house tonight, she's made her choice."

"And what then?"

Matteo didn't answer. He just lifted a phone and made a call.

"I want eyes on the Don," he told the voice on the other end. "If he steps out of line, I want to know. And send flowers to Elena's building tomorrow morning."

"Same kind as before?"

"No." Matteo lit a cigarette. "Send black dahlias. Let's see if she remembers what they mean."

Luca whistled. "That's cold."

Matteo exhaled smoke into the night. "Love is a battlefield. I've just declared war."