Chapter 2 - The Man Outside the Gate
“Marco. Keep it locked.”
Alessandro Moretti ended the call without taking his eyes off Elena.
She was staring at the doorway as though Ryan Mercer might somehow walk through it.
The bruise beneath her eye looked darker now.
“Elena.”
She flinched at the sound of her name.
“He can't come inside,” Alessandro said.
“You don't understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the chair.
“Ryan doesn't leave when people tell him to.”
Alessandro pulled out the chair opposite hers.
“Has he threatened you before?”
Elena looked down.
A memory flashed through her mind.
Ryan standing in their kitchen, smiling while he explained that nobody would believe a broke housekeeper over a successful businessman.
Ryan taking her phone because he claimed she was hiding something.
Ryan apologizing with flowers after frightening her badly enough that she had slept with the bedroom door locked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Alessandro didn't interrupt.
“He used to be my boyfriend.”
“Used to?”
“I left him eight months ago.”
“And he hasn't accepted that.”
She shook her head.
“He says I owe him money.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-eight thousand dollars.”
For the first time, Alessandro's expression changed.
“What for?”
“He helped pay my mother's medical bills.”
“Was there a loan agreement?”
“No.”
“Did you agree to repay him?”
Elena swallowed.
“He said I could pay him back whenever I got on my feet.”
Her eyes filled.
“But after my mother died, he started charging interest.”
Alessandro leaned back.
“Did he ever give you the full amount he claims?”
“I don't know anymore.”
The admission sounded pathetic even to her.
Ryan had always been good with numbers.
He had also been good at making her doubt her own memory.
Alessandro's phone vibrated again.
He read the message.
Marco had sent another photograph.
Ryan stood beside the gate with both hands raised, smiling toward the security camera.
Beneath the image was a short message.
He says he'll call the police and report that you're holding his girlfriend hostage.
Alessandro showed Elena the screen without moving closer.
“Is that true?”
“No!”
Her answer came so quickly that she startled herself.
“I came here to work.”
“Then that's what I'll tell anyone who asks.”
Another message arrived.
He's asking for you by your first name now.
Elena covered her mouth.
“Please don't let him see me.”
“He won't.”
“You can't promise that.”
Alessandro studied her for a moment.
“Then I can promise this.”
His voice remained calm.
“I won't send you outside to him.”
Something in Elena's chest loosened.
Not enough to breathe comfortably.
Just enough to stop shaking quite so violently.
Mrs. Bennett appeared in the doorway with a glass of water.
Behind her stood Dr. Reeves, a silver-haired physician carrying a small medical bag.
“I heard someone might need assistance,” the doctor said.
Elena immediately straightened.
“I'm fine.”
Dr. Reeves smiled gently.
“That's your decision.”
Alessandro stood.
“Mrs. Bennett, please make sure Elena can take the rest of the morning off if she wants.”
Elena shook her head.
“I need the hours.”
“You won't lose them.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Alessandro is fine.”
She stared at him.
He seemed to understand that she wasn't ready to use his first name.
“Or Mr. Moretti,” he added.
A quiet knock sounded at the doorway.
Marco stepped inside.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a charcoal suit.
His face carried the kind of expression that made difficult conversations end quickly.
“Sir, we have a complication.”
Alessandro turned.
“What complication?”
“Mercer says he's filing a complaint.”
“Let him.”
“He's also claiming he has proof Elena stole from him.”
Elena's stomach dropped.
“No.”
Alessandro looked back.
“Did you?”
“No.”
She hated how desperately she said it.
“He gave me access to one account while we were together, but I never took his money.”
Marco continued.
“He says he has documents.”
Alessandro's gaze sharpened.
“Then he can provide them to an attorney.”
Marco nodded.
“There's something else.”
He placed a tablet on the table.
On the screen was a photograph of Ryan entering an upscale Chicago restaurant the previous evening.
Beside him walked a woman in a red coat.
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
Elena noticed.
“Who is she?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Marco did.
“Vanessa Bellini.”
The name meant nothing to Elena.
But Alessandro was suddenly very still.
“She works with one of our companies,” he said.
Marco glanced at him.
“More than that.”
Alessandro looked at the photograph again.
“Vanessa is my fiancée.”
Elena stared at him.
The woman walking beside Ryan was engaged to the man whose house she cleaned.
And Ryan had appeared at the gates less than twelve hours later.
A cold sensation moved down Elena's spine.
“That's not a coincidence,” she whispered.
Alessandro looked at her.
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“No,” he said.
“I don't believe it is.”
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