Page 71 of The Assassin's Captive
I open the door to find him standing in the hallway, his white shirt still immaculate despite the chaos that erupted less than half an hour ago. Not a wrinkle, not a stain. His gray hair is combed back perfectly, and his expression carries the same calm authority it always does. Behind him, the hallway is empty now. His men have finished their work.
"Lorenzo." He steps into the room without waiting for an invitation. His eyes find Serena immediately, taking in her disheveled appearance, the torn clothes, the way she holds herself in the chair. "Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head. "No."
"Good." He moves to the desk at the far end of the room and settles into the leather chair behind it. Emilio runs his fingers along the edge as he speaks. "The immediate situation is contained. Surveillance footage has been corrupted. Staff members have been reminded of their discretion. The press will report a gas leak that required evacuation."
I remain standing by the door. "And the bodies?"
"What bodies?" Emilio's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "There was a minor explosion in the kitchen. Unfortunate, but these old buildings have such outdated gas lines."
Serena shifts in her chair. "The police?—"
"Will find exactly what they expect to find." Emilio leans back, steepling his fingers. "A mechanical failure, quickly contained. No casualties. The club will reopen next week after repairs."
The efficiency of it shouldn't surprise me anymore, but it does. Emilio has been cleaning up messes for thirty years. He could orchestrate a cover-up in his sleep.
"We need to discuss your situation," Emilio continues, his attention focused entirely on Serena now. "This attack changes everything."
She straightens in the chair. "How?"
"Your identity is no longer a secret we can protect through hiding." He stands and moves to the window I'd been watching from earlier. The police lights are gone now, leaving only the usual glow of Rome's streetlamps. "Every family in the city knows you exist. They know what you mean to me. Hiding you accomplishes nothing except making you an easier target."
"So what are you suggesting?"
Emilio turns from the window. "That we stop hiding."
I can see Serena processing the implications, her legal mind working through possibilities and consequences. She's quick—quicker than most people Emilio deals with. But she's also stubborn, and stubborn people make mistakes when they're cornered.
"I won't be a puppet," she says.
"I'm not asking you to be." Emilio returns to his chair, settling back with the ease of absolute confidence. "I'm offering you power."
"Power?"
"A position. Official recognition. Resources." He counts off each point on his fingers. "The Costa family needs legal representation. Real representation, not the bought prosecutors and compromised judges we've relied on for years. We needsomeone brilliant, someone clean, someone who can navigate the system because she understands it from the inside."
Serena's eyes narrow. "You want me to be your lawyer."
"I want you to be our lawyer. The family's legal defense strategist. Publicly aligned, fully resourced, operating with my complete backing." Emilio leans forward slightly. "No more hiding in small apartments. No more working alone. No more pretending you're not who you are."
"And if I refuse?"
The question comes out quietly, but it fills the room. I find myself holding my breath, waiting for Emilio's response. I've seen him handle defiance before. It doesn't usually end well.
But when he speaks, his voice carries something I rarely hear from him. Affection, maybe. Or respect.
"Then you refuse. But you won't survive alone out there." He gestures, and she shudders.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's reality." Emilio spreads his hands wide. "Tonight proved that hiding you is impossible. Every family in Rome will come for you now, some to use you against me, others to eliminate a threat they can't control. You have two choices—accept my protection and the responsibilities that come with it, or face them alone."
She looks at me then, searching my face for something I'm not sure I can give her. Reassurance, maybe. Or confirmation that she has other options. But we both know she doesn't.
"What responsibilities?" she asks, turning back to Emilio.
"Legal counsel. Strategy. Defense of family interests through legitimate channels." He pauses. "And complete loyalty."
