Page 26 of To Love a Monster (Oaths & Obsessions #1)

Nikolai

“W hy would this man be holding me?” she snaps. Her eyes flicker from the photo to my face and back again. “And why would he send you to protect me from Carl?”

There’s no point dodging it anymore. I sit forward, forearms braced against my knees and exhale slowly. “Because you’re not just some girl born to a quiet suburban family. Because he’s the one who raised you for your first year of life. Before he faked your death.”

She doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe, but I see her knuckles go white around the edge of the photo.

“I’m going to tell you everything,” I say, voice low, deliberate. “But you have to let me say it all before you stop me. Can you do that?” She doesn’t nod. But she doesn’t run either. That’s enough for me.

“Matteo isn’t just a powerful man. He’s one of the most powerful men in the world. A name that gets whispered around in rooms everyday people won’t be found in. Private syndicates, mafia negotiations, military blacklists.

His empire is built on blood, on calculated alliances, and a reputation for brutality. He’s had his fingers in everything. Arms deals, surveillance networks, cybertech, asset laundering. Everything except trafficking. That’s his line.” Lila’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t speak.

“Years ago,” I begin, voice low, steady, “Matteo pissed off a rival family. Stopped one of their biggest takeovers and the way he did it was seen as a declaration of fucking war.”

Lila’s still. Listening and processing.

“There was a rumor,” I continue, “that the Gallezos were planning a hit. Not a clean one either. Something messy. A robbery staged as a cartel ambush, mid-transport. Matteo had intel that they were going to intercept one of his cash shipments. Forty million Euros, routed through South Africa via a shell company front. But that wasn’t the worst of it. ”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Matteo sent some of his most trusted agents on that mission and they were planning to kill every man involved. They wanted to make it a complete bloodbath, send a message that they weren’t afraid of touching Ferro money.

But Matteo heard about it before it went down.

He didn’t wait, he rerouted the cash, replaced the transporter with explosives and sent a hit team after the Gallezo transport convoy.

There were three trucks, twelve men total.

Every single one of them armed to the teeth. ”

My voice drops. “But they never saw it coming. Matteo’s crew blocked the exits, boxed them in.

Then hit the convoy from above. Drones, snipers, a ground team moving in tight formation.

It was surgical. Brutal. By the time the smoke cleared, there wasn’t enough left of the last truck to even identify the driver. ”

Lila’s eyes widen, but I keep going. “And it wasn’t just foot soldiers that got caught in the crossfire.

One of the Gallezo family’s upper lieutenants, Domenico Gallezo, was leading the operation.

He was the eldest son and next in line to take over.

Matteo didn’t know he’d be there. But when the body was found? It was game over.”

I pause, letting my words sink in. “They weren’t just humiliated.

They were gutted . Matteo didn’t just beat them, he wiped out some of their most valuable soldiers.

Wiped out their potential rise to power as one of the most well-known criminal families around.

And he made it look effortless. The Gallezos didn’t retaliate right away.

They vanished and went underground. Everyone assumed they were in hiding but Matteo knew better than to believe they’d simply disappear for good.

Word got out that they’d aligned themselves with something bigger. A shadow network called the Syndicate. No structure, no central command. Just a loose, international ring of high-dollar criminals who trade in power like it’s currency.” I pause, letting the weight of that hang.

“They don’t run drugs or extort local businesses, that’s not their style. They deal in the worst things imaginable. Assassinations, blackmail, human trafficking, child abductions, psychological warfare. The kind of shit that governments don’t talk about out loud.”

Lila shivers as I continue. “The Gallezos approached them quietly. Offered them money, information, territory, loyalty. Basically, whatever it took. They needed a strategist. A ghost. Someone who could dismantle a man like Matteo without ever firing a shot. And that’s when they found her.

” I said. “Annalise. The White Widow. One of the youngest known operatives high enough in the Syndicate to call her own plays. Ruthless and brilliant. The last person you ever want to owe a favor to.” I watch her swallow hard, her jaw twitching as she tries to keep breathing.

“She took the job?” she asks after a beat.

“She didn’t just take it,” I say, voice lower now. “She saw the potential in it. Because if you can destroy a man like Matteo—not just his legacy but his name, his family—then there’s nothing you can’t do.”

Lila leans forward slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “So she helped them, but how?” I shift, the memory heavy in my chest. This part ... this part never gets easier to speak aloud.

“She planned everything quietly. No loose ends. She knew Matteo wouldn’t expect a move so personal, so intimate. So instead of hitting his empire, she went for the one place he believed was untouchable.”

Lila’s brows furrow, her voice shaking. “She went for someone in his family?”

I nod once. “His wife, Alessia, and his infant daughter.” Her breath catches, like she’s already bracing for what’s next.

“They waited six months after the ambush, when security started to scale back and Matteo finally let himself breathe ... that’s when they struck. They bypassed alarms, got past guards, and slipped in through the west wing at 3:00 in the morning.”

Her eyes are locked to mine now. Wide and haunted.

“My father was stationed there, head of security at the time. He was supposed to be with Alessia and the baby. They think someone inside gave them access codes, helped them override the failsafes. There wasn’t much tech back then, nothing like the tracking systems we have now.

No real-time alerts. No backup protocols.

So it’s impossible to know exactly what happened, but they believe the intruders came in through the service entrance,” I say.

“Alessia was asleep in the nursery with the baby in the crib beside her. They think my father was at his station down the hall when the first shot went off. By the time he got there, she’d suffered a single bullet wound to the head. She died instantly.”

I pause, jaw tightening as Lila’s eyes shimmer. “What happened to your father? How did they get the baby out?”

“He got the guy who fired the shot,” I say.

“Took a bullet to the stomach but still managed to crawl his way to where the baby was. Matteo believes that the assassin was going to kill her next. But somehow my dad got to him first. Shot the bastard in the back of the head before he could pull the trigger. When Matteo arrived ... both men were dead. His wife as well. But the baby, she was alive. Matteo buried his wife and he buried the story,” I say.

“He realized he’d come too close to losing everything.

And if they were willing to go that far once, they’d do it again.

So, he made a decision. One that cost him everything.

” I slide a second photo toward her, this one of a gravestone.

Small and weatherworn, the name barely legible.

Amelia Ferro—Beloved Daughter. 2000-2001

Lila stares. Her lips part, but no sound comes.

“He staged her death,” I explain. “Buried an empty coffin next to Alessia. Told everyone his daughter was murdered alongside his wife. That both were taken from him in the same brutal night.” I pause.

“But it wasn’t true. Not all of it. There was even a birth and death certificate to match.

No one questioned it. The grief was real.

So was the pain. No one would dare dig deeper. ”

Her voice is soft. Fragile. “That baby...” she whispers. “It was me?” I nod. Just once. She doesn’t move, but I see the shift happen inside her. Her eyes stay fixed on the photo, her fingers trembling slightly where they grip the edge. “What did he do next?”

“He sent you to them, to your parents.” I say, sliding the documents toward her. “Elias and Sasha Delacroix. They lived quietly, off-grid in upstate New York. No kids until their late thirties when they gave birth to a very premature daughter. She only lived for a few days.”

Lila swallows hard, her fingers brushing over the cover of one of the files. “I don’t understand. Why them?”

“Because Matteo trusted them,” I say. “Not just as civilians. As professionals. Before they vanished from public record, Elias and Sasha weren’t accountants or teachers or whatever cover they’ve settled into.

They were two of the most effective covert operatives in the European intelligence circuit.

Former assassins, trained spies. Ghosts in every way that mattered.

They worked with my father on half a dozen joint ops across Europe and the Middle East before they retired. ”

Her head jerks up, brows furrowing. “They know Matteo?”

“He saved their lives more than once,” I say.

“And that’s why Matteo trusted them when it mattered most. After the attack, after Alessia was killed .

.. and after the hitman who murdered her died by my father’s bullet, Matteo decided to make a call, a very difficult one.

He buried an empty coffin beside his wife and handed you, his infant daughter, to the only people he believed could protect her from the kind of enemies that would surely come for her if they ever found out she was alive. ”