Chapter 6 - The Monster Upstairs
The Rossi organization didn't disappear overnight.
But the ledger changed everything.
Investigations opened.
Stolen artwork was recovered.
Financial accounts were frozen.
Men who had spent years believing themselves untouchable suddenly needed lawyers.
And my father's name?
The full records revealed the truth.
He had helped Rossi early on.
But eventually he understood what he was part of.
He had spent his final years documenting everything so the stolen art could eventually be recovered.
His “debt” wasn't really money.
It was punishment.
He had betrayed Rossi by choosing to expose them.
Three days after the warehouse, I stood inside Kalin's penthouse.
He was staring through the windows at the city.
“You're pacing.”
He stopped.
“I thought you were downstairs.”
“I was.”
He looked at my bag.
“You're leaving.”
“My apartment is safe again.”
His face became unreadable.
“Right.”
I waited.
Nothing.
“That's it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don't know. Maybe something other than ‘right.’”
“You should go home, Elena.”
That hurt more than expected.
“Okay.”
I turned.
“Elena.”
I stopped.
He walked toward me.
“You should go home because you deserve a normal life.”
“And?”
“And I am not normal.”
“No argument there.”
His mouth twitched.
Then vanished.
“My world doesn't become safe because Rossi lost.”
“I know.”
“I have enemies.”
“I know.”
“People fear me.”
“I know.”
“I've done things you wouldn't approve of.”
“I definitely know.”
He looked frustrated.
“Then why are you still standing here?”
“Because you still haven't asked the important question.”
“What question?”
I stepped closer.
“Do I want normal?”
Silence.
“Do you?” he asked.
“No.”
His eyes sharpened.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
That frightened him.
I could actually see it.
The terrifying Kalin Kovatch looked afraid.
“Elena.”
“But not your money.”
“I know.”
“Not your building.”
“I know.”
“Not your guards.”
“I know.”
“And if you try buying me things every time we argue, I will throw them at you.”
“That seems unnecessarily expensive.”
I laughed.
He finally smiled.
Then I pointed toward the ceiling.
“And you still need to stop pacing at three in the morning.”
“I'll try.”
“Try harder.”
He stepped closer.
“What happens if I fail?”
“I still have the broom.”
His hand settled carefully around my waist.
“Terrifying.”
Then he kissed me.
Slowly.
No performance.
No possession.
Just the man behind all the power finally allowing himself to want something he couldn't purchase.
When we separated, I whispered:
“You know what's funny?”
“What?”
“The first night we met, I thought you were a monster.”
“And now?”
I smiled.
“Now I know you're a monster who needs better sleep habits.”
May you like
He laughed against my forehead.
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