Page 81 of Beneath the Shadows

“Where’s Lena?” I ask Dante, who’s standing near the entrance, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd like a predator.

“I sent her to your office to wait,” he replies.

Offering a brief nod, I say, “Good,” before turning on my heel and making my way toward the back.

Just as I’m about to step into the corridor, Dante’s voice cuts through the noise. “What did Valentino think of his gift?”

A pause settles in as the question lingers in the air. Without turning around, I reply, “He said it was to die for.” My tone is flat, detached, betraying nothing.

As I approach my office, the door stands slightly ajar. My pulse quickens, but I keep my steps slow and measured, each one deliberate. Pushing the door open, I step inside.

Lena sits in the chair, legs pulled up tightly, her arms wrapped around them like a fragile shield. Her face is pale, eyes wide with uncertainty.

The door clicks shut behind me, the sound echoing through the small room. Lena flinches, her eyes snapping up to meet mine.

“It’s time.”

She swallows hard, her lips trembling. “Do I have to?” she whispers, her voice cracking under the weight of what she knows is coming.

Moving closer, I lean against the desk, towering over her. “Yes,” my voice is firm but steady. “Valentino’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Her eyes widen in terror. “I can’t do this,” she pleads, her voice barely above a whisper. “He’s going to hurt me again, Antonio.”

Crouching in front of her, I force her to meet my gaze. “You’re strong,” I murmur, my voice low. “Just go down there and do what you need to do. It'll be over soon.”

Her shoulders sag, the fight draining from her as grim acceptance settles in. With a shaky breath, Lena pushes to her feet, attempting to straighten her spine, summoning courage that’s already slipping through her fingers.

“Good girl,” I say, standing and stepping aside. “When you’re done, come straight to me. I’ll have Dante take you home.”

She nods, saying nothing more as she walks out of the room. Her footsteps echo down the hall, each one a countdown to Valentino's end.

I take a minute to steady my racing heart, but my thoughts are already moving on to what comes next. Valentino’s death is the key to everything I’ve planned—the pivot point where I take control and get theFamigliaback on the right track. Every step must be flawless. One wrong move and my world will come crashing down.

If anyone even suspects I’m behind this, the entireFamigliacould turn on me. Men have been betrayed for less. The wrong whisper, the faintest slip, and their loyalty could shift, leaving me exposed. I’ve seen it before.

No one survives long in this world once they’ve lost trust. The consequences of failure will be swift—and fatal.

Leaving the office, I walk back into the restaurant, forcing a calm smile as I rejoin the guests. I greet those around me as though nothing is amiss.

A scream cuts through the air, sharp as a blade.

Dante and I exchange a glance, and without hesitation, we move swiftly toward the stairs leading to the basement. As we do, I nod to the men positioned throughout the restaurant. They spring into action, spreading out and securing the exits. The guests murmur in confusion, their laughter dying as they begin to sense something is wrong. My men are well-trained. They maintain control, ensuring no one leaves or thinks to venture downstairs.

Dante and I descend into the lower level, the sounds from above fading into muffled whispers. Lena’s sobs reach us before we even see her, growing louder with each step.

The door is open, revealing the grim scene inside. Valentino’s body is slumped against the bars of the cage, his face contorted in agony, and his veins bulging grotesquely from the poison’s effects. The dim light casts harsh shadows on his lifeless form, highlighting the unnatural pallor of his skin.

In the corner, Lena’s huddled, rocking back and forth. Her tear-streaked face twisted in horror and disbelief. Her cries are piercing, raw. Part of me feels awful for the role I’ve forced her to play, but there was no other way.

Dante steps forward, his expression worried as he crouches beside her. “Lena,” he says firmly. “Lena, look at me.”

She doesn’t respond, her eyes vacant, lost in shock. I step closer, looming over her. “Lena,” I say sharply, my voice cutting through her hysteria. “You need to pull yourself together.”

Her gaze finally shifts to mine, and for a moment, it’s as though she’s seeing me for the first time. Recognition flickers in her eyes, followed by a fresh wave of tears.

“Handle the body,” I instruct Dante coldly.

“I’m on it,” Dante replies, already pulling out his phone. He’s quick and efficient. Two of our men who followed us down begin securing the area, making sure nothing’s left to chance.

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