Chapter 3 - The Alpine Refuge
The flight into Switzerland was made under cover of total darkness. Matteo’s private gulfstream landed at a secluded airstrip near Interlaken, where two black armored SUVs waited on the tarmac with engines idling.
Elena held Mia tightly against her chest as the vehicle navigated the twisting, snow-covered roads climbing into the Alps. Outside, dense pine forests gave way to sheer cliff faces and blanketed mountain peaks. Beside her sat Marco, Matteo’s chief of security, his hand resting near the sidearm strapped to his tactical vest.
"We're almost there, Miss Rossi," Marco said, glancing back from the front passenger seat. "Don Matteo’s villa in this valley is built into the bedrock. It has its own power grid, a two-year supply of rations, and twelve of our top guards posted on the perimeter. You and Mia will be safer here than in a bank vault."
"And Matteo?" Elena asked, unable to suppress the anxiety knotting her stomach. "Have you heard from Milan?"
"The Don spent the night purging the upper ranks," Marco replied grimly. "Don Vane Rossi tried to mobilize his lieutenants the moment Bianca was detained, claiming we took his daughter hostage without cause. Matteo presented the recorded wiretaps from her dressing salon to the regional council. Half of Rossi’s own allies abandoned him on the spot."
The SUV turned down a private gated drive, passing through two biometric security checkpoints before stopping in front of a grand, chalet-style manor built of stone and dark timber. Panoramic windows looked out over a vast, moonlit valley.
Inside, the villa was warm, lit by a massive stone fireplace in the central living hall. Waiting to greet them was Mrs. Gable, an elderly Swiss housekeeper who had served the Bellandi family for decades.
"Welcome, my dear," Mrs. Gable said warmly, taking Elena’s coat and offering Mia a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. "Don Matteo called ahead. He gave strict instructions that you two are to be given anything you need."
As Mrs. Gable showed Mia to a cozy bedroom overlooking the snowy peaks, Elena walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass in the main hall. She looked out at the white wilderness, feeling an overwhelming sense of isolation. Only twenty-four hours ago, her life was defined by the strict routine of a domestic servant—sweeping hallways, laundry, and staying out of sight of the Bellandi family. Now, she was hidden away in an alpine fortress, hunted by powerful crime syndicates simply because she had spoken the truth.
Her phone chimed in her pocket. It was a secure satellite device Marco had handed her before they boarded the plane.
She answered immediately. "Matteo?"
"Elena," his deep, gravelly voice echoed through the line, sending a sudden wave of warmth through her chest. "Did you arrive safely?"
"We just stepped inside," she said, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window. "It’s beautiful here, Matteo. But... it feels wrong. You should be here, away from the danger."
A rare, quiet chuckle came over the line. "I cannot run to the mountains every time a enemy rears their head, Elena. That is not how I keep my people safe."
"Did Don Vane accept the truth about Bianca?"
"He had no choice," Matteo’s voice hardened. "The wiretaps proved she was funneling money from his own accounts into Lorenzo Marco’s network. Bianca wasn't just betraying me—she was preparing to destroy her own family to take power alongside Lorenzo. Her father has retreated to his estate in Como, stripped of his authority."
"What about Bianca?"
"She is in high-security custody," Matteo answered smoothly. "She will answer for her treason when the council convenes next week. But Lorenzo Marco is still unaccounted for. His primary forces are dispersing, which means he is desperate."
"Please be careful," Elena whispered, clutching the phone tightly. "Mia asks about you. She wants to know when the 'nice gentleman with the flowers' is coming back."
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There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Matteo spoke again, his tone was soft, stripped of the terrifying authority he wielded in Milan.
"Tell her I will bring her a fresh bouquet when I arrive," Matteo murmured. "Sleep well, Elena. I will call you tomorrow."
