GUARDED BY MY POSSESSIVE MAFIA BROTHERS

Chapter 4: Locker 214

“Open the door, Elena.”

Dante’s voice sounded calm from the hallway, but his hand moved against the handle again. The lock was the only thing separating him from the silver key hidden in my palm.

“I’m changing,” I called.

“You’ve been wearing the same clothes for three hours.”

“Maybe I’m changing very slowly.”

“Open the door.”

I stared at the anonymous messages on my phone.

Go tonight.

Dante has already sent someone to empty it.

“I want to be alone.”

“That stopped being an option when you lied about Noah.”

“You don’t get to decide when I’m allowed to be alone.”

“I know Carter gave you a key.”

My heart pounded painfully. I slid the key into the pocket of my trousers and pulled my sweater over it.

“What key?”

“The one Marco saw him place in your hand.”

“Maybe Marco needs a hobby.”

“He has one. Keeping you alive.”

“Tell him to try gardening.”

The door handle stopped moving.

“Elena, I’m giving you five seconds.”

“And then what? You’ll break down my door?”

“If necessary.”

I believed him.

Dante had never hurt me, but he had destroyed doors, cars, and men who threatened our family. A bedroom lock would not survive his patience running out.

I crossed the room and opened the door.

Dante stood alone in the hallway. His jacket was gone, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled to his elbows. He looked less like the polished businessman people saw in newspapers and more like the man whispered about behind closed doors.

His gaze traveled over me before settling on my face.

“Where is it?”

“I don’t have anything.”

“Luca searched your purse.”

“I know.”

“He found nothing.”

“Then why are we still discussing this?”

“Because Noah gave you something.”

“Perhaps it was his phone number.”

“You already had his number.”

“Then perhaps it was a love letter.”

Dante’s jaw tightened. “Was it?”

The question carried an anger that seemed far too personal.

“Would that be a crime?”

“For Carter, possibly.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re protecting a man you haven’t seen in ten years.”

“I’m protecting the only person who might tell me the truth.”

Dante’s expression changed.

Only slightly, but I saw it.

“What truth?”

I stepped into the hallway. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I asked you a question.”

“And I’m tired of answering yours.”

I tried to walk past him, but he placed one hand against the wall, blocking my path without touching me.

“What did Luca say?”

“Ask him.”

“I’m asking you.”

“He said I’m his sister in every way that matters.”

Dante became completely still.

The silence confirmed what Luca’s face had already revealed.

I looked up at the man who had taught me to ride a bicycle, scared away my first date, and sat beside my hospital bed when I had pneumonia. Dante had been my protector for as long as I could remember.

Now I could not tell whether he was also my jailer.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“You know what it means.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“This isn’t the right time.”

“When is the right time? After you destroy whatever Mother left in that locker?”

His eyes sharpened. “What locker?”

The anonymous sender had lied.

Dante did not know about Locker 214.

I struggled to keep my expression steady, but he had already noticed my mistake.

“What locker, Elena?”

“I was speaking hypothetically.”

“You’ve never been good at that.”

“I learned from Luca.”

Dante caught my wrist when I tried to move past him. His grip was firm but careful.

“Did Carter give you a locker key?”

“No.”

“Where is the locker?”

“There is no locker.”

“Then why did you mention one?”

“Let go of me.”

His fingers loosened immediately, although he did not move away.

“Carter is using you.”

“So is the person sending those messages. At least Noah isn’t pretending otherwise.”

“What messages?”

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

Dante’s face lost all emotion.

“What messages, Elena?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Show me your phone.”

“No.”

“Did someone contact you again?”

I turned away, but Dante caught my shoulders and forced me to face him.

“Answer me.”

“They sent a warning.”

“About what?”

“Noah.”

“What did it say?”

“That he knows why my real mother died.”

The words escaped before I could stop them.

Dante’s hands dropped from my shoulders. For the first time in my life, I watched my oldest brother look genuinely afraid.

“Your real mother?”

“That’s what the message called her.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it.”

“I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“There are things you are safer not knowing.”

“I’m twenty-one, Dante. You can’t keep treating me like a child.”

“This has nothing to do with your age.”

“Then what does it have to do with?”

He looked toward the staircase, as if checking whether anyone could hear us.

“Your name.”

“My name is De Santis.”

“Yes.”

The certainty of his answer hurt more than hesitation would have.

“Was it always?”

Dante’s eyes met mine.

“Names are more dangerous than blood in our world.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one I can give you tonight.”

“Why tonight?”

“Because someone entered our security system, contacted you privately, and convinced you to distrust your family within forty-eight hours.”

“You lied to me for twenty-one years. They only needed forty-eight hours to prove it.”

Pain flashed across his face, but anger quickly replaced it.

“Give me the key.”

“No.”

“So there is a key.”

I stepped backward.

Dante moved forward.

Before either of us could speak again, Luca appeared at the end of the hallway.

“Dante, Marco needs you downstairs.”

“Not now.”

“He found the device’s transmission source.”

Dante looked at him sharply. “Where?”

“Less than two miles from the estate. There’s security footage.”

For several seconds, Dante’s attention remained divided between me and the new information.

Finally, he pointed toward my bedroom.

“Stay inside.”

“I’m not a prisoner.”

“Tonight, you are whatever keeps you alive.”

He turned to Luca.

“No one enters this hallway. Take her phone.”

“Dante—”

“Do it.”

He walked away before Luca could argue.

We waited until his footsteps disappeared down the staircase.

Then Luca closed my bedroom door and looked at me.

“You told him about the locker?”

“Accidentally.”

“Where is it?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Elena, this isn’t a game.”

“I know.”

“Who sent the second message?”

“I don’t know.”

“And you still plan to follow their instructions?”

“If I don’t go tonight, whatever is there might disappear.”

“That could be exactly what they want you to believe.”

“Dante didn’t know about it.”

Luca frowned. “Are you certain?”

“I saw his face.”

“Dante’s face reveals nothing.”

“It reveals things when Mother is mentioned.”

Luca walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Several guards crossed the courtyard below, moving toward the security building.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Thinking about how many people will shoot me if this goes wrong.”

“You’re going to help me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re checking the guards.”

“I’m checking the weather.”

“It’s dark.”

“Exactly. Terrible weather.”

I moved closer. “Luca.”

He released the curtain and faced me.

“If we leave, you follow every instruction I give.”

My breath caught. “We?”

“You won’t survive ten minutes alone at Central Station. You look guilty when ordering coffee.”

“You’re really helping me?”

“I’m preventing you from climbing out a second-floor window and stealing a car.”

“That wasn’t my plan.”

“It became your plan the moment I mentioned it.”

A reluctant smile touched my lips.

Luca pointed at me. “This is not permission to look happy.”

“How do we get past the guards?”

“We don’t. We make them believe you’re still here.”

He opened my closet and removed a long coat with a hood.

“Put this on.”

“That’s your brilliant plan?”

“No. My brilliant plan includes insulting Dante’s intelligence after we survive.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then he’ll insult mine at our funeral.”

Twenty minutes later, we entered a service vehicle through the mansion’s underground garage. Luca wore a black cap and the uniform jacket used by our security team. I remained hidden beneath a blanket in the back seat until we passed through the western gate.

Only when the mansion disappeared behind us did I sit up.

“You do this often?” I asked.

“Smuggle stubborn women out of fortified houses?”

“Yes.”

“Only on Tuesdays.”

“It’s Monday.”

“That explains why the plan feels poorly organized.”

The city blurred outside the windows. Rain reflected the lights across the streets, making Chicago appear fractured beneath the glass.

Luca drove with one hand while repeatedly checking the mirror.

“Show me the key.”

I placed it in his open palm.

He examined the label and cursed quietly.

“What?”

“Locker 214 is in the original section of the station.”

“Why is that bad?”

“It hasn’t been used for public storage in years.”

“Then how can there be a locker?”

“Some lockers remained after the renovation. People connected to our father used them for private exchanges.”

“What kind of exchanges?”

“The kind you don’t report to the station manager.”

My stomach tightened. “Did Mother know?”

“She knew more about our family than anyone realized.”

“Was she involved in the business?”

Luca returned the key.

“Ask the locker.”

“That’s becoming your answer to everything.”

“It’s keeping me from lying.”

Central Station was nearly empty when we arrived. The last evening trains had departed, leaving only a few travelers sleeping beneath the yellow lights. Luca guided me through the main hall and down a narrow corridor marked Employees Only.

“You’ve been here before,” I whispered.

“So have you.”

“When?”

“You were too young to remember.”

I stopped walking. “Why did you bring me here?”

“This isn’t the place for that conversation.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because you keep choosing terrible places for emotional revelations.”

A metallic sound echoed from somewhere ahead.

Luca immediately pulled me behind him.

“Stay close.”

“Was that a door?”

“Yes.”

“Someone else is here.”

“I noticed.”

We reached the old locker room. Rows of rusted metal doors covered the walls. Several had been removed, leaving dark spaces behind them.

Locker 214 stood in the far corner.

Its door was open.

“No,” I whispered.

Luca drew the gun from beneath his jacket.

“Stay behind me.”

We approached slowly. The locker appeared empty, but fresh scratches surrounded its lock. Someone had forced it open only minutes earlier.

“We’re too late,” I said.

“Maybe not.”

A trail of water crossed the dusty floor. Wet footprints led toward an emergency exit.

Luca examined the inside of the locker with his phone light.

“There’s something taped beneath the shelf.”

He reached inside and removed a small black voice recorder.

“That’s all?”

“It might be enough.”

A red light blinked when he pressed the button.

Static filled the room.

Then a woman’s voice began to play.

“If Elena is hearing this, then Dante failed to keep the truth buried.”

I stopped breathing.

I had heard that voice in old home videos.

It belonged to my mother.

“Elena,” the recording continued, “the men raising you are not your enemies. But they are not innocent either.”

A gunshot exploded through the locker room.

Luca dragged me to the floor as the recorder flew from his hand.

The emergency exit slammed shut.

Someone had been waiting for us.

And they had just heard my mother’s voice too.