Chapter 10
The hunting cellar contained proof Elena had been there.
A hairbrush.
Two dresses.
A child’s drawing of Ella copied from an old photograph.
And dozens of small marks scratched into the stone wall.
Salvatore counted until he stopped wanting to.
Eight months.
One of the guards found another room.
Matteo Vieri had been kept there.
Bloodstained cloth lay in one corner, old enough to have dried dark. A chain had been bolted to the wall, but the final link had been cut.
Anthony crouched beside it.
“Vieri escaped.”
Salvatore looked toward Elena’s room.
“If he escaped, why didn’t he take her?”
No one answered.
Then a guard found writing scratched beneath the bed.
SHE CANNOT WALK FAR.
Salvatore closed his eyes.
Elena had survived.
But whatever they had done to her had left her dependent on the people who held her.
Anthony found a second message near the doorway.
TRUST THE OLD WOLF.
He stared at it.
Salvatore noticed.
“What?”
Anthony stood slowly.
“There was only one man Elena ever called that.”
“Who?”
“Domenic Sarto.”
Salvatore knew the name.
Every Carbone did.
Domenic had served his grandfather, then retired before Salvatore took control. He had refused money, territory, even a ceremonial seat.
He lived quietly near the northern orchards.
Salvatore had always thought retirement meant distance.
Now he wondered if it meant secrecy.
They arrived at Domenic’s property before sunset.
The old man was waiting on the porch.
Not surprised.
That was Salvatore’s first warning.
“You took long enough,” Domenic said.
Salvatore stepped out of the car.
“Where is my wife?”
Domenic’s expression softened.
“Alive.”
One word nearly dropped Salvatore to his knees.
But Domenic did not open the door.
“Before you see her,” he said, “you need to know why she refused to come home when Vieri finally got her out.”
Salvatore stopped.
Alive was not the same as free.
May you like
And Elena had apparently been given a chance to return.
Yet something had kept her away.
