None of it made sense. And that made me extremely wary.
Giovanni looked like he might argue further, but Caspian placed a restraining hand on his arm.
“We should go,” the eldest Lebedev said.
I nodded and Elena hugged them goodbye, one by one. I watched from the sidelines, wondering what the hell Elena Lebedev was planning.
Chapter 9 - Elena
That night, I found myself unable to sleep. After my brothers left, Gastone had turned to me with one question: Why?
He had every right to be confused by my stand. After all, I, too, found myself questioning my impulsive decision to remain by Gastone’s side as his wife. But the truth was what I had told him—I meant every word I spoke. If staying married to Gastone, our families could find peace at last.
But knowing the reason for my decision didn’t make digesting it any easier. I had willingly agreed to stay married to the man who kidnapped me.
God, what a mess.
My mind wouldn't shut up, replaying their shocked faces over and over. I'd seen actual pain in my brothers' eyes, like I'd stabbed them or something. But what choice did I have? It was either pretend to accept this farce or watch both families tear each other apart.
“You're such a moron, Elena,” I whispered to myself, turning to my side to see if I could find a more comfortable position to sleep in.
But was I really?
I replayed the scene in my mind. How angry everyone had been. When my brothers threatened to take me away with them, Gastone had declared he’d have their operation shut down within the week.
Had Gastone been bluffing, I knew my brothers well enough to expect that they would have scoffed. But none of them did. They looked enraged, slightly afraid too, and they told himthey’d hit him right back. Gastone had dirt on us, serious dirt. And as much as I hated to admit it, my family had enemies who'd jump at any chance to take us down.
That was the moment I knew I had to put an end to this madness, because it became clear that Gastone was an equal, capable of ruining my family, more powerful than I thought.
I’d belonged to a mafia family all my life, and knew where such conflicts usually headed. Straight to death and destruction, often stemming from the fact that some of the idiots couldn't talk to each other like normal human beings.
So, if I could prevent all the death and destruction that would have taken place had I chosen to return, I decided to do all I could in my power. I decided to stay and gain Gastone’s trust.
Of course, I wasn’t a fool. I knew love and a stable, healthy marriage couldn’t be on the cards for us. But if I remained with Gastone, I could protect my family and help them.
By gaining Gastone’s trust, by staying in his proximity, I could discover his secrets and then use them against him to get what I wanted most.
An escape.
It wasn't exactly the life plan I'd had in mind, but hey, when did being a Lebedev ever come with normal problems?
***
The next morning, I woke up feeling rather morose about my situation. For a little while, I lay in bed, wondering if I should simply give up and accept my fate, but then I thought of home.
I thought of my sister-in-law, Kate, who always made sure I had my favorite coffee sent up to my room whenever Istayed with her and Caspian. I thought of my younger sister Beatrice and how she’d always pick up something for me on every single one of her shopping sprees. I thought of my niece Sophia and how big she must be getting every single day.
If I didn’t find a way to learn all I could about Gastone, to find some leverage to get the hell out of here, I might miss her first steps.
There was no chance I was allowing that to happen. Feeling more hopeful now, knowing what I had to lose on the line, I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed into the shower.
My plan was simple. Gastone would be out for the day. While I didn’t have access to his computer, given how he had all those passcodes, I did have access to all his files, which were stored away in various shelves and drawers. I could sift through them to gain something useful.
I was sure of it.
By the time Gastone arrived home, I’d searched every accessible drawer, cabinet, and closet in his apartment, but found nothing incriminating.
I followed the same routine for the next four days, this time sneaking into his bedroom, the living room, the smaller office room, and even the bookshelf. I was sifting through every book, hoping for something to fall out—a clue, a letter, anything.
