Chapter 5 - The Violet Eyes
Elena Moretti was staring at the water-stained plaster wall, her gaze lucent, crystalline, and terrified. She didn't move a muscle, as though she believed that breathing might trigger an explosion.
"Don't try to sit up," Hollis said gently, kneeling beside the mattress with a mug of warm broth. "You tore two intercostal muscles, and you lost a lot of blood."
Elena’s eyes shifted slowly toward Hollis. The raw terror in them was heartbreaking. "Where... am I?" Her voice was barely a scratch against gravel.
"My apartment. The East Ward," Hollis replied, offering the mug. "I found you behind Halloran Tower last night."
Elena tried to pull away, her hand flying to her chest, feeling the thick bandage beneath the flannel shirt. She realized her clothes had been changed, her wounds tended. Her chin trembled. "You... you shouldn't have touched me."
"You were dying in a snowdrift."
"It would have been better if I did," Elena choked out, a single tear spilling over her lashes. "If Marco finds out I'm alive... if he traces me here... he won't just kill me. He will kill whoever touched me. He will kill your child."
Hollis’s heart went ice cold. "You heard Toby."
"I heard his voice," Elena whispered, clutching the blanket up to her chin. "You have a family. You don't know who my brother is. You don't know what they do."
"I know who Dante Moretti is," Hollis countered steadily, setting the broth down and pulling the folded note from her pocket. She held it up so the wax crest was visible. "And I know what this says."
Elena’s face drained of what little color it possessed. She recoiled against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Burn it. Please, burn it!"
"Who is Marco?" Hollis asked, leaning in, her tone firm yet low. "And why did he make your brother believe you aren't his sister?"
Elena buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently. "Marco is my father’s first cousin. The family council's elder. When my father died of cancer last year, Dante was named Don. But the Moretti bloodline requires pure succession. If Dante had no living heir or sibling... the council’s secondary branch inherits the syndicate's trust."
Elena looked up, her violet eyes burning with a mix of fury and despair. "Marco took me six months ago. He staged the yacht explosion. He kept me in a sub-basement beneath the old fish packing district, starving me, trying to break my mind so I'd sign over the family trusts. When I refused, he forged the genetic test. He showed it to Dante... told Dante that my mother had an affair with a rival family. He told Dante that *I* was the one who poisoned our father."
Hollis felt sick. "And Dante believed him?"
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"Dante is paranoid," Elena whispered bitterly. "He trusts no one. He looked at the paper, and Marco told him I had fled the country out of guilt. Dante gave the order... an execution order for an imposter. If Dante finds me, he won't embrace me. He will put a bullet between my eyes."
***
