Chapter 6
In the aftermath of the attack, the Moretti estate became a fortress on absolute lockdown.
Julian called Elara into his private study, dismissing Elias with a wave of his hand.
He poured two glasses of scotch and slid one across the mahogany desk toward her.
"Agnes didn't just recommend a secretary, did she?" Julian asked, leaning back in his leather chair.
Elara picked up the glass, staring at the amber liquid for a long moment.
"Agnes knew my father," Elara finally admitted, her voice losing its usual timid whisper.
"He was an independent contractor who specialized in cleaning up impossible messes for very wealthy people."
Julian knew exactly what kind of 'contractor' she meant.
"He trained you," Julian stated, connecting the dots effortlessly.
"He trained me to survive, to go unnoticed, and to strike only when the outcome was absolutely guaranteed," she said.
When her father was murdered by a rival syndicate, Elara had erased her own existence to survive.
She adopted the persona of a boring, forgettable secretary to hide in plain sight.
The Moretti compound offered her shelter, a steady paycheck, and total anonymity.
"Until tonight," Julian noted, watching the quiet intensity burning in her eyes.
"Dante Russo is a rabid dog, and rabid dogs don't care who they bite," Elara said coolly.
"He forced my hand."
Julian took a slow sip of his drink.
May you like
"I don't need a secretary anymore, Elara," he said softly.
"I need a ghost."
