Chapter 5 - The Secret Smile
The little girl didn't cower under the terrifying, mafia-boss intensity of Dante’s gaze.
She didn't stammer, and she didn't look back at Marcus in fear. She just maintained her confident, tiny pose, hands still resting on her hips.
She smiled back at him mysteriously.
A slow, knowing smile that carried the exact same stubborn, brilliant defiance of the woman Dante had mourned every single day for the last twenty-four months.
"That's for me to know," the little girl whispered, her blue lace dress rustling softly as she took one deliberate step closer to his wheelchair.
Before Dante could grab her small hands and demand the truth, the heavy double doors of the ballroom slammed open with a deafening BANG.
Every head in the room whipped toward the entrance.
Stepping out of the shadows of the grand hallway, bathed in the warm, bright lighting of the chandeliers, was a woman.
She wore a breathtaking, flawless ivory silk gown. Her brown hair was styled to perfection, and her face—though carrying the pale scars of a horrifying past—was completely untouched by time.
It was Elena.
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Marcus let out a choked, terrified gasp, dropping his crystal champagne flute. The glass shattered against the marble floor, the sharp sound echoing through the dead-silent ballroom.
👉 Elena wasn't dead, and the master plan she had set into motion was about to destroy Marcus's entire empire.
