Chapter 13 - ELENA'S EXILE
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Two weeks had passed since the funeral at Mount Carmel.
The grand lakeside estate had never felt more peaceful.
The heavy mahogany doors that Gabriel had kicked down had been replaced with solid carved walnut, reinforced with invisible titanium plates.
The staff moved through the corridors with lighter steps, no longer tiptoeing in terror of Elena’s vicious, biting remarks.
At ten in the morning, a private black town car was parked beneath the covered portico outside the front entrance.
Two drivers in plain suits were loading four leather suitcases into the trunk.
In the grand foyer, Elena Romano stood waiting, dressed in an elegant traveling coat of charcoal wool with a black fur collar.
Her luggage was packed, her private jewelry boxes inventoried and sealed.
She looked smaller, her posture slightly stooped, the fierce arrogance that had once commanded sixty servants completely extinguished.
Gabriel and I walked down the sweeping marble staircase together.
My splint had been removed yesterday by Dr. Rossi, replaced with a light compression wrap around my healing knuckles.
I wore a simple cream-colored cashmere sweater and dark trousers, looking relaxed, confident, and completely at home.
Elena looked up as our shoes clicked against the marble steps.
Her eyes flicked to my unbandaged hand, then to Gabriel’s arm resting possessively around my waist.
A flicker of the old bitterness flared in her gaze, but she quickly lowered her eyes, knowing she had no power left in this house.
“The car is ready, Mother,” Gabriel said, stopping at the base of the staircase.
Elena clutched her leather handbag against her chest with white knuckles.
“Maine is very cold in November, Gabriel,” she said, her voice shaking with quiet, pathetic self-pity.
“The estate in Camden has central heating and a full staff,” Gabriel replied without an ounce of sympathy.
“You will have everything you need to live comfortably.”
“Except my family,” Elena whispered, looking at her son with pleading eyes.
“You are sending me away like a disgraced servant.”
“What will people say when I am not at the Christmas gala?”
Gabriel stepped forward, his expression cold as winter ice.
“People will say that Donna Elena retired to the coast for her health,” Gabriel stated firmly.
“And if anyone asks further, Marco will show them the bank statements from your Swiss accounts.”
Elena flinched, looking away in defeat.
She knew that Gabriel was showing her far more mercy than she had ever shown me.
Under syndicate law, treason of her magnitude was punishable by a bullet in the cellar.
Gabriel had spared her life solely because she had carried him in her womb.
Elena turned her gaze toward me, her thin lips pressing into a tight, trembling line.
For six months, she had looked at me with disgust, treating me like dirt scraped from her expensive shoes.
Now, she was looking at the woman who had replaced her entirely.
“You think you’ve won, Catherine,” Elena said, her voice dropping into a bitter hiss.
“You think a girl from Ashland can hold a man like Gabriel forever.”
“This world is filled with blood and monsters.”
“Eventually, it will swallow you whole.”
I didn't flinch.
I took two slow, deliberate steps toward her until I stood less than an arm’s length away.
I looked directly into her tired, aging eyes with absolute calm.
“The monsters in this world only frighten people who hide in the shadows, Elena,” I said, my voice steady, clear, and unyielding.
“I fought your enforcer in the cellar and dropped eighty tons of steel on Marchesi’s crew.”
“I am not afraid of Gabriel’s world.”
“Because unlike you, I don't use lies to protect my place at his table.”
Elena stared at me, her mouth slightly open, finally realizing that I was not a victim she could bully with cruel words.
She was looking at a true Romano matriarch, forged in fire and tempered by steel.
Without another word, Elena turned on her heels and walked through the heavy front doors.
The driver held the car door open for her, and she climbed inside without looking back once.
The town car glided down the long winding driveway, disappearing through the heavy wrought-iron gates toward the highway.
The front doors closed, leaving Gabriel and me alone in the sunlit foyer.
Gabriel looked down at me, a proud, breathtaking smile spreading across his handsome face.
“You handled that better than I would have,” he murmured, taking my healing right hand and gently kissing my knuckles.
“She needed to hear the truth, Gabriel,” I said, resting my head against his chest.
“And now?”
May you like
Gabriel wrapped both arms around me, pulling me into a warm, unbreakable embrace.
“Now, this house belongs to us.”
