Chapter 2 - THE MIDNIGHT INTERROGATIONThree hours into the flight, the cabin lights dimmed to a bruised amber glow. The baby—whom Matteo called Katia, after his mother—had finally drifted into a heavy, milk-drunk sleep against Elena’s chest, her tiny fists curled like rose petals.
Elena sat rigidly in the seat across from Matteo. She had tried to move back to her economy-class seat in the rear, but Matteo had given a single, silent tilt of his head. Two bodyguards had immediately escorted her things to the leather armchair adjacent to his private desk.
"You're Elena Rossi," Matteo said suddenly, swirling a finger around a crystal tumbler of amber whiskey. He hadn't touched a drop of it; he just stared at the liquid as if calculating odds. "Thirty-two years old. Former pediatric nurse at Saint Jude's in Boston. Widowed fourteen months ago when your husband's car went off an icy bridge. Twin boys lost six weeks later due to... complications."
Elena went cold. Her blood turned to slush in her veins. She gripped Katia tighter, her knuckles whitening. "You ran a background check on me while I was nursing your daughter?"
"I run background checks on the air I breathe, Mrs. Rossi," Matteo replied smoothly, his eyes rising to meet hers. There was no warmth in them, only an intense, analytical curiosity. "I don't let strangers hold my flesh and blood. When you stood up in row twelve, my head of security had your entire life history on his tablet within forty seconds."
"Then you know I'm not a threat," Elena hissed, keeping her voice low so as not to wake the baby. "I'm just a passenger trying to fly to New York to start over with what's left of my miserable life. Let me go back to my seat."
"No."
The single word fell like an iron gate dropping on cobblestones.
"No?" Elena's voice rose, sharp with indignation. "Mr. Volkov, I am not your employee. I am not your hostage. I saved your daughter's life because I have a human heart—something you and your thugs seem to have surgically removed!"
Matteo stood up. At six-foot-three, he loomed over her, a mountain of quiet menace. Yet, he moved with the predatory grace of a ghost. He crouched down beside her chair—not threateningly, but close enough that she could smell the expensive cedarwood and gunpowder clinging to his tailored suit.
"You saved her," Matteo said, his voice dropping to a low, velvet purr that sent a shiver straight down Elena's spine. "That makes you valuable. That makes you connected to me now. In my world, Elena, once you touch the inner circle, you don't just walk away at baggage claim. Especially not when my daughter refuses to latch onto anyone else."
"She'll take a bottle once she's rested—"
"She won't," Matteo interrupted, reaching out with a massive, tattooed finger to gently stroke Katia's sleeping cheek. The contrast between his lethal hand and the baby's soft skin was jarring. "Katia knows the difference between plastic and a mother's heartbeat. And right now... you smell like safety. She won't survive twenty-four hours without you. Which means neither will I."
Elena stared at him, horror dawning behind her eyes. "You're keeping me."
"I'm employing you," Matteo corrected, a dangerous, crooked smile touching the corner of his lips. "Ten thousand dollars a week. Full medical. A penthouse in Manhattan with bulletproof glass and twenty-four-hour security. Or... you can try to walk out that cabin door when we land, and I'll let my men decide if you know too much to leave."
Elena opened her mouth to scream, to curse him, to throw a punch at his chiseled jaw. But down in her arms, Katia stirred, letting out a tiny, whimpering sigh and burrowing deeper into Elena's sweater.
Elena closed her mouth. Her throat tightened with a suffocating mix of fury and bitter irony. The universe had taken her family, left her dry and hollow, and now, a mafia kingpin was chaining her to his crib with a silver shackle.
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"You're a monster," she whispered.
"I know," Matteo said softly, standing up and turning toward his private compartment. "Get some sleep, Mrs. Rossi. Tomorrow, we land in New York, and your new life begins whether you want it or not."
