Chapter 11 - The Empire's Ledger
The private jet sliced through the heavy, charcoal-grey clouds hovering over the Swiss Alps, leaving the chaotic violence of Chicago hundreds of miles behind. Inside the mahogany-paneled cabin, the ambient hum of the engines was the only sound breaking the thick silence.
Liam sat across from us, nervously twisting a gold-plated fountain pen between his fingers. His eyes darted back and forth between me and Victor, who sat calmly with a digital tablet scrolling through global asset portfolios.
"I still don't understand," Liam finally blurted out, breaking the quiet. "One month ago, you were scrubbing floors in an estate with chemical burns on your hands. Now you're flying private over Europe with the most feared man in America? Elena, what is happening to our lives?"
I folded my hands over the lap of my cashmere travel suit, looking over at Victor before answering.
"We aren't hiding anymore, Liam," I said softly. "The debt you owed wasn't just a random gamble. Salvatore orchestrated it to trap me inside that house. He knew who our father was before the syndicate wiped him out."
Victor didn't look up from his tablet, but his hand reached out across the narrow gap between our leather seats, his fingers intertwining firmly with mine.
"Your grandfather left a ledger, Liam," Victor said, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the cabin. "A ledger containing the offshore accounts of every corrupt politician and syndicate elder in the Midwest. Salvatore thought he destroyed it. But it was hidden inside the floorboards of the east wing—right beneath the rooms Elena was forced to clean."
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Liam went pale. "So... she was never just a maid."
"She was a target," Victor corrected coldly, lifting his dark eyes to meet Liam's trembling gaze. "Until she walked into my study, put her hands on my chest, and changed the trajectory of my entire life. Now, she is my equal partner. And anyone who looks at either of you sideways will answer to me."
