Chapter 17 - WHISPERS IN THE MANSION
The morning sun brought no relief from the simmering tension inside the Rossi estate. By noon, the rumor mill among the household staff was running rampant. Servants in the lower kitchens spoke in hurried whispers behind pantry doors, casting wary glances at Elena whenever she passed through the corridors.
"She’s walking a dangerous line," Elena overheard Mrs. Gable, the head cook, muttering to a maid. "The Don hasn't drawn a weapon inside the banquet hall in five years. If Moretti retaliates, she’ll be the first one caught in the crossfire."
Elena hurried past, carrying a fresh tray of tea toward the central courtyard, but she was stopped in the gallery by Marcus.
The estate manager stood straight, hands folded behind his back, blocking her path with quiet deliberate intent.
"A moment, Elena," Marcus said softly, his expression grave.
"I need to bring this to the Don's office, Marcus."
"The Don is on a secure call with Chicago. You have two minutes." Marcus stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You need to understand the position you are in. Don Luca is not an ordinary man. When a man like him shows favoritism, it paints a target on your back that never washes off."
Elena clutched the silver tray tighter. "I didn't ask for any of this. I just wanted to pay my father's debt."
"The debt was paid the moment he signed those papers," Marcus said sharply. "You could have walked away yesterday. You have the deed in your hands. But you chose to stay on master suite duty. Why?"
Elena opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Why hadn't she packed her bag and taken the first train back to Brooklyn? Why did the thought of leaving this ruthless, dangerous man feel more terrifying than staying in his lion's den?
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"Be careful, child," Marcus warned, stepping aside. "In this house, love is not a sanctuary. It is an executioner's blade."
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