Page 99 of The Freedom in Captivity

Elijah tucks his hands back into his pockets, his shoulders lowering in a lazy manner, the opposite disposition one making a business deal would have. “We have money, and a lot of it. We’ve accepted that owning the underground crime in Quebec will not be happening as we are aware of a union soon-to-be finalized between your sister and the New YorkFamiglia. Even we have our limits; therefore, we’ve amended terms. Why, before you ask—what was supposed to be a few years’ plan has taken over two decades. Stefano De Falco royally fucked up and ruined a lot of people’s lives. Even those standing in this room. And,” his eyes flick to the hall at our backs, “those who aren’t here. Therefore, we want nothing more to do with him, which makes him your problem. In exchange, be available. No money, no control, but a partnership. If we require something from you, something on this side of the country, something you maintain control of, you will do it.”

My back prickles with discomfort. Elijah’s words might sound pleasant, but they’re tainted with a lie.

Nico crosses his arms, becoming bigger. “Those terms aren’t defined enough.”

Elijah, with a slight tip of his head, reaches toward the driver still standing by the doorway, who grabs something from the inner pocket of his coat. Elijah takes the rolled-up sheet of paper and hands it over to Nico.

“Our terms,” he explains, “in a more defined manner.”

A moment passes of absolute silence. Of Lorenzo reading the document from over Nico’s shoulder. Of Rosen shifting on the balls of his feet, bounding with an energy I’m also feeling. The uncomfortable prickle grows as we all wait for Nico’s decision.

“Deal.”

Elijah smiles.

With Nico’s verdict, the driver bends and lifts De Falco again, stepping right by Nico and through the mansion’s doorway, without requesting permission. He drops him by my feet and strides back to the car.

Elijah holds out his hand for Nico to take. “I’m pleased you walked the correct path and look forward to working with you. We’d appreciate if the Seven remained out of your mouths as well.” He gestures to the paper in Nico’s grip. “We don’t exist. Until we do.”

With those final, parting words, Elijah spins on his heel and strides toward the black car, not breaking pace as the driver opens the back door for him to enter. No one moves until the black car is pulling away.

“Follow them,” Nico commands the four soldiers still standing there. “Ensure they make it to the Ontario border before returning.” They move as one toward the side of the house to retrieve a vehicle.

“What now?” Lorenzo asks, staring down the road as the black car exits Corsetti property.

“They’re no longer our concern. Not right now.” Nico turns away from the open doorway, scanning us all and then to the limp man at our feet. A sick smile spreads on his face, and one I appreciate all too much. A grin of a winner. “Flynn, bring him to the ballroom. Tie him up.

I lean down to lift De Falco’s limp body and Rosen trails closely behind, readying to help, as Lorenzo questions, “The ballroom?”

“The basement isn’t required,” Nico answers, his tone flat. “The bastard won’t be living past today. But first, a father-daughter reunion needs to happen.”

Rozelyn

Turns out, for all the boredom I’ve ever experienced during captivity, in both the basement and the bedroom, it was better than being immersed with everyone’s outwardly cautious and hostile stares.

After the men left, Isabelle remained across the room, staring at me like she wasn’t sure if she should lump me in the same category as my father or not. After a moment, Aurora sat beside her, throwing cautious looks my way, like she’s uncertain what to feel about me. Caterina spared me no extra glances as she paced the room up and down the length of the carpet to the point I nearly begged her to stop. Della and Ariella eventually returned, not commenting on their likely heated conversation regarding Ariella’s offer.

“Where’s everyone?” Della had asked, scanning the room, noticing the clear lack of testosterone.

Meanwhile, I’ve made a home on the edge of Nico’s desk. No one’s asked me to leave. No one’s spoken to me. So here I am, waiting and drumming my fingers on the edge in tandem with Caterina’s pacing.

Less than ten minutes after everyone left, the door opens again, but only one person enters. One person whose attention immediately goes to where he last stood—to Isabelle seated on the floor. He goes to her, scooping her into his arms, his head buried in her neck.

It’s…sweet. In some ways, it reminds me of only hours ago, to when Flynn was caring for me in the hot bath he ran. Only hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

“What’s happening out there?” Della treads across the office to Rafael’s side.

He looks away from Isabelle briefly to answer, “I, um…I won’t say yet. Let’s wait it out.”

Della huffs but returns to her sister’s side, glaring at the door, clearly waiting for her own husband to enter with answers.

Another ten minutes pass, and this time, when the door opens, it’s Lorenzo who enters first and heads for Caterina. Behind him, Nico, and Della runs into his arms with her immediate demand.

“What’s going on?”

He shares a glance with his brother, and then of all people to look at, it’s me. I push off his desk, suddenly feeling like I’ll need to stand for whatever he’s going to say. Itmusthave to do with my father because, deep down, my gut says so.

Which makes his announcement of, “Your father is here,” slightly less surprising. Of course, it’s about him.

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