Chapter 7 - The Rossi EstateThe car didn't head toward my cramped, third-floor walk-up in Queens. Instead, it crossed the Triborough Bridge and wound its way up into the heavily wooded, private gated hills of Westchester County.
Ten minutes later, the SUV passed through massive wrought-iron gates guarded by armed sentries and swept up a quarter-mile long paved driveway flanked by towering oak trees.
Rising before us was the Rossi estate—a sprawling limestone mansion built in classical European architecture, surrounded by manicured lawns, stone fountains, and high security walls. It was breathtaking, imposing, and terrifyingly isolated.
When the vehicle came to a halt, Isabella was waiting on the front stone steps, leaning slightly on her silver-tipped cane.
As I stepped out of the car, Isabella walked over, her eyes softening as she looked at my pale face. She reached out, gently cupping my cheek with a warm, wrinkled hand.
“Welcome home, child,” Isabella said softly, her voice filled with genuine warmth. “You are safe here. Nobody will ever hurt you under this roof.”
“Thank you, Isabella,” I murmured, touched by her sincerity despite the chaotic circumstances that brought me here.
Dominic stood a step behind us, watching our interaction with an unreadable expression. “Show her to the master suite, Enzo. Ensure her medical supplies are delivered immediately.”
I turned my head sharply, glaring at Dominic. “Master suite? As in... your room?”
Dominic met my gaze steadily. “You are recovering from multiple gunshot wounds, Elena. You require 24-hour monitoring, clean dressings, and complete security. My suite is the most heavily fortified part of the estate.”
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“I’d rather sleep in a doghouse,” I snapped.
“You can sleep wherever you like,” Dominic replied with chilling calm, turning toward the double oak doors. “Provided it’s within arm’s reach of my protection.”
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