Chapter 4 - THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The message had been simple.
BRING THE WAITRESS.
No ransom.
No money.
No negotiation.
Me.
Dante refused.
Of course he did.
“You're not trading yourself for me,” I told him.
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Then what are you planning?”
“Finding my sister.”
“Without me.”
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You don't give orders here.”
“Neither do you.”
A dangerous silence filled the room.
Then Gabriel walked in.
“We found the location.”
Dante grabbed his coat.
I followed.
“No.”
He blocked the doorway.
“You stay here.”
“I can help.”
“You already helped enough.”
“Dante.”
He stared at me.
“You don't understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
He looked away.
Finally, he said:
“My sister was the only person who protected me when my father hurt me.”
My anger disappeared.
“Then let's bring her home.”
We drove to an abandoned warehouse near the river.
Dante's men surrounded the building.
I stayed in the SUV.
At least, that was the plan.
Then I saw a figure through a broken window.
A young woman.
She was tied to a chair.
Dante's sister.
I jumped out.
A guard grabbed me.
“Stay inside!”
“I can see her!”
Before he could stop me, gunfire erupted.
Dante moved through the doorway.
The guards followed.
I ducked behind the SUV.
Seconds later, someone grabbed me from behind.
A hand covered my mouth.
I kicked backward.
The man cursed.
I bit his hand.
He released me.
I ran.
Then Dante appeared.
He slammed the man against the vehicle.
“Touch her again and you won't leave this property.”
His voice was terrifying.
The man escaped into the darkness.
Dante turned toward me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He grabbed my shoulders.
“Don't ever do that again.”
“You're welcome.”
His eyes closed briefly.
He looked relieved.
Then his sister was brought outside.
She ran into his arms.
I watched them.
For a man everyone called ruthless, Dante held her with extraordinary tenderness.
Later, back at the estate, his sister introduced herself.
“I'm Sofia.”
“Eleanor.”
“I know.”
I laughed.
“Everyone seems to know me.”
Sofia smiled.
“Dante has been talking about you.”
I looked at him.
He immediately looked annoyed.
“I have not.”
“You have.”
“Sofia.”
She laughed.
It was the first normal family moment I'd seen in that house.
Then Sofia suddenly became serious.
“Eleanor, there's something you need to know.”
Dante's expression changed.
“Sofia.”
“No.”
She turned to me.
“The night our father died, he gave me a photograph.”
She disappeared upstairs.
When she returned, she held an old photograph.
It showed four people.
Dante's father.
Isabella.
Victor Hale.
And a fourth person.
A woman.
My breath stopped.
I knew her.
I had seen her before.
In an old photograph at my father's house.
“My mother.”
Dante looked at me.
“What?”
I took the photograph.
“My mother knew your father.”
Sofia's eyes widened.
Dante stared at the picture.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
I turned it over.
There was writing on the back.
A date.
And six words.
HE TRUSTED THE WOMAN WHO BETRAYED HIM.
Dante looked at me.
“Who?”
I shook my head.
“I don't know.”
But deep inside, something cold had already begun forming.
My father had always refused to talk about my mother's years before I was born.
He had told me she worked for a private family.
He never told me which one.
Now I knew.
May you like
The Russo family.
And suddenly my father's death six months earlier no longer seemed like a natural tragedy.
