Chapter 2 - Caged in Luxury
The private jet ride back to New York was filled with a suffocating silence.
The triplets had finally cried themselves to sleep, curled up together on the plush leather sofa of Vincent's Gulfstream. Elena sat opposite them, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring out the window into the pitch-black night sky.
Vincent sat across from her, a glass of scotch in his hand, untouched. He hadn't taken his eyes off her for a single second.
"They're beautiful," Vincent said quietly, breaking the heavy silence. "Chloe, Maya, and Lily. Which one is the oldest?"
"Chloe," Elena answered without looking at him, her voice hollow. "By two minutes. Then Maya. Lily is the youngest."
"Why did you name them that?"
"Because they weren't Rossi names," Elena snapped, finally turning her fierce gaze to him. "They weren't names meant for a bloodline soaked in crime and death. I wanted them to have normal lives, Vincent. A life with ice cream festivals and public schools. Not bulletproof glass and bodyguards."
Vincent winced slightly, but his expression quickly hardened back into his trademark mask of stoic control. "You took my children away from me. You let me live in hell."
"I saved their lives!" Elena hissed, leaning forward, her voice a fierce whisper so she wouldn't wake the girls. "Do you honestly think my car accident was an accident? I found out what your father did, Vincent. I found out about the Consortium."
Vincent froze. The Consortium was a myth. A campfire story whispered among the highest echelons of the global mafia—a secret council of old-money billionaires who controlled the syndicates from the shadows. Vincent had spent the last two years trying to find out if they actually existed, but every lead ended in a corpse.
"My father is dead, Elena," Vincent said carefully.
"His legacy isn't," she replied bitterly. "The night I fled, I intercepted a document. Your father didn't want an heir born from a woman outside the syndicates. I was just a doctor’s daughter. He ordered a hit on me, and when I survived the initial poisoning, I knew I had to disappear completely. If they knew I was pregnant with triplets—with three potential heirs to the Rossi empire—they would have taken them from my womb and disposed of me."
Vincent’s blood ran ice-cold. His father, Victor Rossi, had been a sadistic tyrant, but to think he would target Elena...
"Why didn't you come to me?" Vincent demanded, his grip tightening around his glass until the crystal cracked. "I would have protected you! I would have killed him sooner!"
"You were young, Vincent. You hadn't taken the throne yet," Elena said, a tear finally escaping her eye. "You would have died trying to protect me. I loved you too much to let you die."
The jet tilted as it began its descent into New York City. Vincent looked out the window at the sprawling, glittering skyline. He was the king of this city now. No one could touch him. Or so he thought.
An hour later, the black SUV convoy pulled into the gates of the Rossi estate—a massive, heavily fortified fortress in upstate New York. The girls woke up, wide-eyed and terrified of the giant iron gates and the men carrying submachine guns.
Vincent stepped out first, then reached his hand out to help Elena. She ignored it, stepping down on her own and pulling the girls close.
"Welcome home," Vincent said, though the words felt heavy and ominous.
As they walked into the grand foyer, Vincent’s head of security, Marcus, rushed forward, his face pale. He held a tablet in his hand.
"Boss, we have a problem," Marcus whispered, glancing nervously at Elena and the children. "The news of your... acquisition at the festival. Someone leaked it. It’s all over the dark web. And we just received a package at the front gate."
Vincent stepped away from Elena, his eyes narrowing. "What package?"
Marcus handed over a small, black velvet box. Vincent opened it. Inside was a single, silver coin stamped with an image of an eye wrapped in thorns—the sigil of the Consortium. Beneath the coin was a note written in elegant calligraphy:
May you like
The debts of the father must be paid by the daughters. Return them, or we burn New York to the ground.
HOOK FOR FACEBOOK: The mafia king thought he was protecting his family by bringing them home. Instead, he just walked them straight into the predator's trap... Chapter 3 will shock you!
