Page 4 of Her Dark Mafia Protector
But there are other things that I can sense about Elle just by watching her from a distance and seeing how she moves around in the world. She’s skeptical, curious, and observant but also wary. And although she is definitely not corrupt like her father, Elle’s moral compass doesn’t always seem to point true north. The fact that she seems driven by personal codes rather than strict legality means that she struggles with shades of grey when it comes to her morality. I don’t judge that since I can most certainly relate. In truth, I find herfascinating.
If I let myself linger on her for too long and stare at her lean, athletic build and the way her pants hug the curve of her waist, it would be easy to get distracted. She’s beautiful, classically graceful, and entirely enticing, but also strong enough to be dangerous in more ways than one.
I’ve spent years staying out of the fray and away fromher, not only for her safety but also for my sanity. Staying detached from the woman who insists on continuing her pursuit of her mother’s mysteriouswatcheron that fateful night hasn’t been entirely easy. Especially considering how driven and obsessed she is with it. But staying away from her has meant keeping everything that I know about the circumstances of that night away from her, too.
I saved Elle that night, and I’ve vowed to keep her safe every day since. I might be a ruthless monster, but not when it comes to innocent people.My code exists, and like Elle, my demons won’t overcome me, even though it involves ethical ambiguity.I do what I can to clean the blood off my ledger these days, including staying away from her and tempting fate.
As soon as the priest announces that Luc and Valentina are husband and wife, applause erupts, and the two of them walk joyfully back down the aisle. The ceremony was uneventful in terms of threat risk, which is good, and now there will be an enjoyable reception for all the guests to attend. I hadn’t planned on attending it. I came here only to ensure Valentina’s safety because she wasn’t under my care as intended, and I wanted to tell Luciano that I was unhappy about his last-minute change of plans. When I found out that Elle was also going to be attending, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of my reason for coming too. A big, public event like this was a good opportunity to see her in person without getting too close.
“Coming to the afterparty?” Vincent asks as he walks past me on his way out of the church.
“Probably not,” I say, glancing over at the other side of the cathedral where I can see Elle following the crowd of people toward the door.
“You should come,” Isla smiles. “Everyone deserves a break to enjoy themselves once in a while. Besides, I hear it’s going to beextravagant.”
Of course, it is. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Luc and his endless wallet. I open my mouth to decline, but then, I see a man put his hand on Elle’s shoulder as she walks out the door of the church. It’s a harmless gesture, especially when people are funneling out of an event through a single exit. However, no gesture is completely harmless with this crowd of high-profile mafia families. These people wear ulterior motives on their hands like rings.
“Sure,” I say, before I can think better of it. “Sounds fun.”
Vincent looks shocked that I’ve agreed to attend, and honestly, so am I. The fact that I even attended the wedding ceremony is both uncharacteristic and out of my comfort zone. I don’t know what’s come over me.
“Great, see you there then,” Vincent says as he puts his arm around Isla and walks out with her. His attempt to feign good relations between us is delicate. He has nothing against me, but he doesn’t trust me either. That much is clear. And in truth, he shouldn’t. I don’t like to hitch my allegiance to anyone but myself. It would take alotfor me to care about anyone again.
I run my hands through my dark hair as I try to reckon with the failure of better judgment that I just gave in to. Even though my hair is short, the motion still tousles it, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the church's reflection window. My usual dark, tailored suit stands out against all the bright colors of the stained glass, reinforcing the imposing aura that shadows me everywhere. But even with my dark aesthetic, I’ve never found a way to conceal my blue eyes.
Going to this reception is likely a mistake. I avoid social situations almost entirely because they can sometimes lead to people wanting to connect emotionally, something that I avoid atallcosts. Emotional connection means caring about someone, and for me, that means being fiercely protective. The last time I let myself be emotionally invested in anyone, I wound up with the kind of emotional and psychological scars that I will carry with me forever. Elle isn’t the only one with a traumatic past. Mine may not have been a mother, but losing a brother is just as deep a cut.
The reception is just across the street in an outdoor courtyard lit by countless strands of twinkling lights hanging in the overhead trees. It’s a mistake for me to be here. But yet, my feet keep walking until I’m inside the crowd of guests, surrounded by music, revelry, and throngs of people mingling together.
At the corner of the courtyard, I see Elle standing alone once again. I sometimes wonder if she isn’t as emotionally guarded as I am. It wouldn’t surprise me since past trauma has a way of making a person closed off—for good. It needs to stay that way, with both of us alone in our own corners of the world and of the city, once we both return to Las Vegas after this wedding is over.
The best thing that she could ever do is to stay away from me, and vice versa. My decisions in the past have gotten people I cared about killed—myinactionhas gotten them killed, and that guilt will forever plague me. Now, I find it easier to simply not care about anyone.
So then, why am I here watching her from the corner of the courtyard, surrounded by all the things that I keep a distance from? Perhaps I’m driven by an obsession too—an obsession to find out if she’s as good as her file says she is, or if she’s just another mouthpiece for her corrupt father.
I should disappear, but instead, I get closer.
When her eyes find mine through the crowd, I stare back at her and don’t look away. Honestly, I’m not sure that I couldlook away even if I wanted to. Keeping Elle safe meant keeping her away from me—until now.
CHAPTER 4
ELLE
Attending Luc and Valentina’s wedding under the pretense of security oversight was bound to be a pretty transparent cover. But evenIdidn’t entirely expect to find what I was actually looking for here.
For years, I’ve felt like I’ve been hunting an apparition from my past, a set of unmistakable eyes that are embedded in memories from that night. And all this time, I’ve been waiting for the day that I see those eyes in person, in myrealwaking hours, so that I can finally confirm for sure that the ghost in my memories truly exists. And as soon as I set eyes onhim, it instantly rekindles my consuming pursuit and awakens old trauma that has never fully healed, like a scab that I keep scratching open.
He's real.The Ghost exists.
I would recognize those eyes anywhere, and as soon as I spot them in the cathedral, I feel both validated and disarmed. I only get a glimpse of him, the striking icy gaze that looks back at me as he talks with Luc and Vincent Moretti before the ceremony begins. Then, even though I try to keep my sights on him without chancing to look away, he disappears.
I guess the rumors are true; this guy really is an apparition assassin, able to vanish into thin air just like he did that night in the alleyway.
For the rest of the ceremony, I searched the crowd for him without success. And when the ceremony concludes and the guests all start to leave and head for the reception, I try to wait and see if he comes through the only doorway in or out of the cathedral. When I don’t see him again, I make my way to the afterparty in the courtyard, hoping that he will be there too, so that I can continue on this lead. I’m not sure whether to be excited or terrified, orboth, but one way or the other, I need to find out more.
The courtyard fills quickly with guests ready to enjoy the spoils of the wedding reception. Food, drinks, music, and dancing—it all erupts into full swing as soon as people filter in. There’s a chance that he won’t be here—my blue-eyed phantom. And if the rumors are true about the Ghost, he doesn’t appear very often, even in the well-kept mafia circles. I move to a corner of the courtyard where I can watch things without being approached by anyone offering trays of appetizers or looking to engage in small talk about the wedding décor. After a few minutes of scanning the crowd, I spot him.
His tall, powerful build is imposing, even as he tries to blend in with the rest of the guests. His dark suit jacket is open, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, which hints at the defined muscles beneath its neckline. He looks pristinely put together, and also esoterically untamed. Now that I take a longer look at him, I notice that it’s more than his eyes that draw me in. Everything about this man is dangerously enticing. Still, there’s a sense about him that puts off not only a predatory vibe but aprotectiveone as well. He is no doubt dangerous and deadly, but I wonder whatelsehe is, too.
