Chapter 4 - THE ROOM WITH NO WINDOWS
Rosa survived the night.
Her surgery was postponed until she was stable.
Adrien moved Lena and her grandmother into the secure medical wing of a private residence overlooking Lake Michigan.
It was not a safe house.
It was his home.
Lena stood inside a bedroom larger than her entire apartment and stared at the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“You live here alone?”
Adrien remained near the doorway.
“I have staff.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He ignored the question.
“Two guards will remain outside. You will not leave without an escort.”
“Am I a guest or a prisoner?”
“A difficult guest.”
Despite everything, she almost laughed.
Adrien noticed, and some of the tension left his face.
During the following days, Lena watched him more closely.
He disappeared behind locked doors before sunrise. Men arrived in expensive suits and left pale. Phones rang at every hour.
Yet every evening, Adrien came to Rosa’s room.
He never entered immediately.
He stood outside until Lena invited him in.
Rosa remained cautious around him, but she answered his questions.
Gabriel Reyes had worked for Antonio Varelli. He had discovered someone selling family routes to Vittorio Moretti’s father.
Before Gabriel could reveal the traitor, he was framed for the betrayal.
He disappeared while trying to gather proof.
Rosa had spent two decades believing he was dead.
“Did he leave anything?” Adrien asked.
“A key,” Rosa said. “But it vanished the night he disappeared.”
“What kind of key?”
“Small. Brass. The number seven was carved into it.”
Adrien and Lena exchanged a look.
Booth Seven.
That night, Adrien went to Lavelle alone.
He removed the leather cushion from the booth and searched the frame.
Nothing.
He ran his fingers along the underside of the table.
There.
A narrow metal keyhole was hidden beneath the carved wood.
He returned home just after three in the morning.
As he entered the foyer, a glass shattered upstairs.
Adrien drew his gun and ran.
He found Lena standing outside his bedroom.
She had dropped a water glass.
Inside the room, Adrien’s security screens displayed photographs of her apartment, her hospital visits, and Lavelle.
“You were watching me,” she said.
Adrien lowered the gun.
“I was protecting you.”
“You had cameras outside my building before my grandmother disappeared.”
“I needed to know whether Moretti was following you.”
“You could have told me.”
“You would have refused.”
“So you decided my choices didn’t matter.”
His silence confirmed it.
Lena’s eyes filled with anger.
“You keep saying you don’t own me. Then you make every decision as if I belong to you.”
Adrien moved toward the screens and shut them off.
“I do not know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
His jaw tightened.
“Care whether someone survives.”
The confession silenced her.
He turned away.
Lena saw that his hands were shaking.
“Adrien?”
“I need you to leave.”
His breathing had changed.
Too fast. Too shallow.
She stepped closer.
He backed away.
“Do not touch me.”
“You’re having a panic attack.”
“I said leave.”
His body struck the wall.
The severe, untouchable mafia boss suddenly looked like a terrified boy trapped in a room with no windows.
Lena kept her voice calm.
“What happened to you?”
Adrien pressed his fist against his chest.
“When I was twelve, the Morettis took me.”
Her anger disappeared.
“They kept me underground for six days,” he said. “They tied my hands. Men touched me whenever they wanted information. They broke fingers. Cut skin. Held my head underwater.”
Lena’s eyes burned.
“My father found me.”
“Antonio?”
“No. Gabriel Reyes.”
She stopped breathing.
Adrien looked at her.
“Your father carried me out. He told me to focus on his voice. He held my hand all the way home.”
“Then why did you believe he betrayed you?”
“Because six months later, my brother was killed and Gabriel disappeared. My father showed me proof.”
“Proof that might have been planted.”
“Yes.”
His breathing became worse.
Lena held out her hand.
“I won’t touch you unless you choose it.”
Adrien stared at her palm.
“You do not understand what happens when I do.”
“Then tell me.”
“It becomes quiet.”
“That doesn’t sound terrible.”
“It is when the quiet depends on someone I cannot control.”
Lena’s expression softened.
“You don’t have to control everything that helps you.”
For several seconds, Adrien did not move.
Then he reached for her.
His fingers closed around hers.
The panic eased instantly.
He pulled her closer, slowly enough that she could stop him.
She did not.
Adrien rested his forehead against hers.
“You are becoming a weakness,” he whispered.
“No,” Lena said. “I’m becoming someone you trust.”
His eyes dropped to her lips.
The air changed.
He almost kissed her.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Marco stood there, his face grim.
“We searched the booth.”
Adrien stepped away from Lena.
“And?”
“We found the compartment.”
“Was the key inside?”
“No.”
Marco held up a photograph.
“But this was.”
The picture showed Gabriel Reyes standing beside Antonio Varelli.
Between them was a third man.
Adrien’s uncle, Enzo Varelli.
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On the back, someone had written four words:
ENZO KNOWS WHO BETRAYED US.
