Chapter 6: Their Mother

Low groans echoed through the dark, ice-cold room, the pungent stench of blood thick in the air. Haden stepped inside with a casual gait, his sharp gaze locking onto his cousin’s vacant, lifeless eyes.

Aldo and Christian had both been slaughtered the night they reclaimed Ella, but Haden had made a deliberate choice to keep Matt alive.

For the past week, he had subjected Matt to relentless torture, prying out the names of everyone involved. There would be no forgiveness. No mercy. Every person who had played a hand in Ella’s suffering was marked for death. And Matt? He would bear witness to each execution, watching helplessly as his allies were dragged in, one by one, and butchered before his eyes.

He had given up every single name.

Now, Matt sat slumped in the chair, stripped of his dignity—his right and left arms nothing more than severed stumps, the flesh crudely cauterized to keep him from bleeding out too soon. Deep gashes marred his body, some thin as a razor’s edge, others jagged and gaping. His skin glistened with sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his breath came in shallow, ragged heaves.

His right eye had swollen shut, his lip split and crusted with blood. But even in his ruined state, he kept his glare fixed on Haden, a tempest of rage and fear flickering within him.

Haden twirled a piece of steel between his fingers, a slow, calculated smirk stretching across his lips.

"You know," he mused, his voice dripping with amusement, "I have to admit—I’m impressed by your will to live."

Matt let out a hoarse, bitter laugh before spitting blood onto the floor. "Fuck you!" he snarled.

Haden’s grin widened as he closed the distance between them.

"Now, now," he chided, tilting his head. "Is that any way to talk to your dear cousin? I did you a favor, after all. You’ll never be able to lay those filthy hands on anyone again." His tone was almost playful, but his eyes gleamed with malice.

Matt clenched his teeth. "Enough with the talking," he spat. "You're going to kill us anyway. Just fucking do it."

Haden’s brows lifted ever so slightly. "Us?" he echoed, feigning curiosity.

Matt's jaw tightened. "Me and my brothers," he hissed. "Just get it over with."

Silence.

Then, Haden let out a low chuckle before glancing over at Luca, who stood watching with a knowing smirk.

"Oh," Haden mused. "No one told him?"

Luca shook his head, his smirk deepening. "I thought he knew."

Matt’s bloodshot eyes flickered between them, burning with raw hatred.

Haden leaned in, his voice dipping into a mockingly sympathetic whisper.

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, Matt, but… Aldo and Christian died a week ago."

He drew back, his expression shifting from false sympathy to something cold and merciless.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he added flatly.

Then, he straightened, his face devoid of emotion, as if Matt was nothing more than another name on a list waiting to be crossed out.

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Joella

I sighed as we pulled up in front of the Russo estate, my nerves wound so tight it felt like I could snap. My leg bounced anxiously, an unconscious reaction to the storm brewing inside me. A warm hand settled on my thigh, grounding me.

"Relax, tesoro," Haden murmured, his voice a soothing contrast to the chaos in my mind.

But I couldn’t relax. Not when I knew why his grandfather had summoned us. Not when I wasn’t ready to face whatever awaited us inside. They had promised to keep me safe once before, and we both knew how that had turned out. Haden gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before stepping out of the car. I watched as he rounded the vehicle with smooth, confident strides, his presence always unwavering. He pulled open my door, his other hand extending toward me. I inhaled deeply, forcing air into my lungs, and slid my hand into his, letting him help me out.

With each step toward the grand estate, my heart pounded harder.

The guards at the entrance straightened as we approached, bowing their heads in respect to Haden before giving me a brief nod. I barely acknowledged them, too consumed by my own apprehension. Haden’s grip remained firm as he led me through the grand hallways, past marble floors and intricate chandeliers, until we reached a massive oak door. He knocked once before pushing it open without waiting for a reply.

The moment we stepped inside, his entire body tensed.

His hand tightened around mine, his fingers pressing into my skin with barely restrained fury. My gaze snapped up to him, and I stilled at the storm raging in his eyes—pure, unfiltered anger.

I followed his line of sight, my stomach twisting when I saw her.

A woman sat on the couch in the corner of the study, her posture stiff, her presence unsettling. She bore a striking resemblance to Haden’s mother—the same golden hair, though hers fell in sleek, bone-straight strands instead of Carolyn’s signature curls.

But it wasn’t her appearance that made my breath hitch. It was the way she looked at me.

Her gaze burned with barely concealed rage, sharp enough to cut.

Why was she angry with me?

Then, just as quickly, her attention flicked to Haden, and she immediately dropped her eyes to the floor, her shoulders drawing in slightly. I barely had time to process before Haden tugged me toward a chair in front of his grandfather’s desk. He didn't sit. He remained standing behind me, a formidable presence at my back.

"Why is she here?" His voice was sharp, clipped, cold enough to send a chill down my spine.

I hesitated, then glanced up at him, and the look on his face made my blood run cold. I had only seen that expression once before—when Matt had a gun to my head. A shiver ran through me at the memory, my pulse quickening. Immediately, Haden’s gaze flickered down to me, his fury melting away in an instant. His fingers brushed softly over my shoulders, his touch careful, protective.

"You okay, tesoro?" he asked, his voice dipping into something gentler, more intimate.

I swallowed, nodded, and let myself sink into the chair, exhaling as the tension in my body slowly unraveled.

But even as I tried to calm myself, I could still feel the weight of the woman’s stare lingering on me, like a silent threat waiting to unfold.

"She's here to show that we stand in solidarity with you as Capo." Haden’s grandfather finally spoke, his voice calm but firm.

Haden scoffed, the sound sharp with disdain.

"Her approval was never needed," he said coldly.

His grandfather’s gaze darkened slightly. "Careful," he warned. "She’s still your aunt."

I turned my attention back to the woman, my mind piecing things together. She was Matt, Chris, and Al’s mother. Their blood ran in her veins, but when our eyes met again, I realized something I hadn't noticed before.

It wasn’t rage in her stare—it was despair. Fear.

My chest tightened.

I had spent so long hating her sons, despising them for what they had done to me, to Haden. But as I looked at her now, I felt something unexpected—pity.

She had lost everything. Her husband. Her sons. All at once.

No mother should have to endure that kind of pain.

Haden rolled his eyes, dismissing the moment with a glance down at me.

"The only approval that matters is Ella’s," he stated firmly.

His grandfather nodded, tapping his fingers lightly against the desk before shifting his gaze to me.

"You are correct," he said, his voice measured. "Joella."

I swallowed hard at the way he addressed me, giving him my full attention.

"I know trusting us isn’t easy," he continued. "Not after what happened. But I give you my word—history will not repeat itself. We never expected family to be the ones to betray us."

A sharp inhale came from the woman behind me, but no one turned to acknowledge her.

"Family or not," Russo said coolly, "betrayal is always met with death."

I nodded, but words failed me. What could I possibly say?

The weight of the woman’s grief pressed into me, silent but suffocating. It was the kind of sorrow that seeped into the air, demanding to be felt. My throat tightened as I blinked away the tears threatening to form.

I had no right to cry. Not now.

"You are safe, Ella," Russo assured me. "Everyone who played a role in what happened to you has been dealt with."

His gaze held mine for a long moment before he turned back to Haden.

"Anything you’d like to add?"

Haden shook his head but gave my shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

A bitter thought crossed my mind, and before I could stop myself, I spoke.

"What about your enemies?" I asked. "If Haden becomes Capo dei Capi, that makes me the number one target."

Russo smirked, the sharp glint in his eyes showing amusement rather than concern. He turned to Haden.

"You've been training her?"

"Of course," Haden answered without hesitation.

His grip on me tightened slightly—silent reassurance.

"Ella, we know our enemies. We are always prepared for an attack," Grandpa Russo stated firmly. "Everyone knows your safety comes first."

I nodded, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice agreement. I wasn’t just worried about my own safety—I was worried about Haden. No amount of promises could change the truth. If he became Capo, he would always be in danger. And that was something no one could guarantee me wouldn’t happen.

"We are all in agreement on Haden being the next Capo."

The voice was soft yet steady, and it came from the one person who had remained silent until now. All eyes shifted to her as she slowly rose from her seat and walked toward the empty chair beside me. She was beautiful, just like Haden’s mother—the same golden hair, the same elegant features. But where Carolyn radiated warmth, this woman carried a weight so heavy it seemed to press into her very soul. Grief clung to her like a shadow, and I knew it was because of everything she had lost.

"May I?" she asked gently.

I nodded, and she took a seat, her gaze never wavering from mine.

"I was given great detail of what my sons did to you," she began, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "I am so sorry they caused you that amount of pain." A crack in her voice. A chink in the armor. My chest tightened at the raw emotion in her words.

"They went against family," she continued, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "They knew the repercussions if they were caught. So did my husband. But he—" she exhaled shakily "—he encouraged them to fight for what he believed was rightfully theirs. He led them down that path. I wish I had known sooner what they were planning. Maybe… maybe I could have stopped them. Maybe things wouldn’t have ended this way."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away swiftly, as if ashamed of the show of weakness.

"I am sorry," she said, her voice stronger this time. "To both of you."

She looked at me first, then up at Haden, who stood behind me like a silent storm. His face was unreadable, cold and detached. I swallowed, my heart aching at the sight of her pain. I looked up at Haden, hoping to find some crack in his icy exterior, but his expression remained blank. Shaking my head, I turned back to her and, without thinking, reached out to take her hand in mine.

"I don’t blame you," I said softly. "It was your sons who hurt me, not you."

Her breath hitched. This time, when the tears spilled down her cheeks, she didn’t bother wiping them away.

"You’re such a sweet girl," she whispered, squeezing my hand. "I understand why Haden loves you so much."

I returned the gesture, my grip gentle yet firm. "At the end of the day, I can see that you’re hurting too. You lost your family, and I am truly sorry for that."

Her quiet cries turned into full, broken sobs. Grandpa Russo, who had remained still until now, stood and walked around his desk. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Rosalyn, sweetie," he murmured, his voice filled with rare tenderness, "why don’t you go get some rest?"

She nodded weakly, wiping at her face as she slowly rose to her feet.

Without another word, she walked out of the room, her father following close behind.

And just like that, the room felt heavier.

Quieter.

More suffocating than before.

Haden’s hands found my shoulders again, but this time, he said nothing.

Because we both knew—there were no words that could fix what had already been broken.

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Haden

Ella was too kind for her own good. Always forgiving, always finding the best in people—even when they didn’t deserve it. It annoyed the hell out of me. But at the same time, it was one of the reasons I loved her so damn much.

As my aunt and grandfather disappeared through the door, Ella turned to me, her brows furrowed in frustration, a scowl fixed firmly on her face.

"What?" I asked, mirroring her frown.

"Why were you so cold?" she demanded, arms crossing over her chest. "Can't you see she's hurting?"

I clenched my jaw.

"You want me to feel sorry for killing the people who hurt you?" I asked, my voice flat, but my irritation growing.

"No," she shot back, "but you could at least show some compassion to your aunt."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head.

"I already did that when I didn’t put a bullet through her fucking head," I snapped.

Ella flinched, her body stiffening before she turned away from me.

Damn it.

I exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand down my face before moving around her chair. Without a word, I pulled her into my lap as I settled into the chair beside hers. She let me, her body pliant, though I could still feel the tension in her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, pressing my lips to her temple. "But every time I see her, I see them. And it pisses me off all over again." I let out a slow breath. "I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you."

She sighed, melting into my chest, her head resting against my shoulder.

"Haden," she said softly, "do you want to be Capo?"

The truth?

Yeah. I did.

At first, I wasn’t sure. But now? I knew I was damn good at what I did. Cooper Inc. was thriving. The club was running smoothly. And I was ready to take on more. Besides, Luca would be right there with me. Still, none of that mattered if she didn’t want this life.

"I do," I admitted. "But if you really don’t want me to, I won’t." I meant it. I’d walk away from all of it—no hesitation. Ella was the one thing I could never risk losing. I didn’t think she even realized the kind of power she had over me.

She sighed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against my chest as she thought. Finally, she lifted her head, locking eyes with me.

"Okay," she whispered. "Just stay safe. And always make it back home to me."

A slow smile tugged at my lips as I pulled her in, brushing mine against hers in a soft, lingering kiss.

"I promise," I murmured.

And I meant that, too.