Chapter 6 - The Choice Dante Couldn’t Make for Her
Victor Bellandi gave Elena three hours.
He wanted the contents of Daniel Carter’s safe-deposit box delivered to Pier 19.
No police.
No Moretti soldiers.
Elena alone.
Dante’s answer was immediate.
“No.”
Elena looked at him.
“You don’t decide.”
“I absolutely decide whether my eight-month-pregnant wife walks into a trap.”
“You’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Treating me like something you own when you’re afraid.”
Dante stopped.
Elena’s anger softened only slightly.
“I understand why you’re afraid. But this is my father. My family. My history. You don’t get to lock me in a room while men settle it around me.”
“I would rather have you hate me alive.”
“That sentence is exactly the problem.”
Dante looked away.
Matteo stood near the kitchen window.
“He’ll kill whoever he has.”
“Do we know who?” Elena asked.
Maria entered carrying a tablet.
“We do.”
Security footage from the community clinic appeared.
Dr. Samuel Reeves, Elena’s clinic director, was being forced into a van.
Elena covered her mouth.
Sam had been her mentor for seven years.
Victor had chosen carefully.
Dante turned toward Maria.
“Prepare the exchange.”
Elena blinked.
“You’re agreeing?”
“No.”
His eyes met hers.
“I’m listening.”
It was perhaps the hardest thing Dante Moretti had ever said.
They went to the bank together.
Inside the safe-deposit box were three ledgers, two cassette tapes, photographs, and a handwritten letter addressed to Elena.
She opened the letter first.
Her father’s handwriting nearly broke her.
My dearest Elena,
If you are reading this, the past has found you despite everything I did to keep it away.
Daniel explained that Victor had used Bellandi companies to launder money through legitimate charities and shipping firms. When Daniel discovered that Victor intended to use a children’s medical foundation as cover, he copied records and fled.
He had believed leaving would protect his wife and daughter.
It hadn’t.
The car crash that killed Elena’s parents had not been an accident.
Victor had ordered it.
Elena stopped reading.
Dante caught her before her knees gave way.
She allowed him to hold her for exactly three seconds.
Then stepped away.
Not because she felt nothing.
Because she felt too much.
“My grandfather murdered my parents.”
“Yes,” Matteo said softly.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“And nobody thought I deserved to know.”
Matteo lowered his head.
Dante said nothing.
For once, he understood there was no sentence capable of repairing the moment.
They copied every document.
The originals went into a waterproof case.
Copies went to three attorneys, a federal prosecutor Salvatore trusted, and an investigative journalist in New York.
Dante looked at Elena.
“Insurance.”
She nodded.
At six forty, Elena approached Pier 19 wearing a microphone beneath her coat.
Dante remained hidden with Maria and Matteo.
Victor waited inside an abandoned shipping warehouse.
Elena had expected a monster.
Instead she saw an old man with silver hair, a cane, and a beautifully tailored coat.
Dr. Reeves sat tied to a chair.
“Elena.”
Victor smiled.
“You look like your mother.”
“Let him go.”
“You sound like your father.”
“Let him go.”
Victor’s smile faded.
“You have the box?”
She raised the case.
“Yes.”
“Bring it.”
Elena walked forward.
Twenty feet.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Then Victor looked at her stomach.
“My great-granddaughter.”
“She is nothing to you.”
“She is Bellandi blood.”
“She is my daughter.”
Victor smiled.
“And Moretti blood.”
Something ugly moved behind his eyes.
That was when Elena understood.
This had never been about the ledgers alone.
“You wanted Dante and me together.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“You had Matteo follow him. You knew who I was. You knew I worked at the hospital where Dante was taken.”
Silence.
“You arranged the shooting four years ago.”
Victor smiled.
Elena felt sick.
“You put Dante in my emergency room.”
“I created an opportunity.”
“Why?”
“Because hatred matures beautifully when families become intertwined.”
Elena stared at him.
He had wanted a Bellandi granddaughter married to a Moretti.
He had wanted a child connecting both bloodlines.
Then he intended to tear them apart.
“You’re insane.”
“No. I am patient.”
A gun appeared behind Elena.
Vanessa stepped from the shadows.
Elena froze.
Victor smiled.
“Give her the case.”
Vanessa raised the weapon.
“Do it.”
Elena stared at her.
Then slowly handed over the case.
Vanessa walked toward Victor.
Dante’s voice exploded in Elena’s hidden earpiece.
“Elena, get down.”
But Vanessa reached Victor first.
And turned the gun.
Toward him.
Victor’s smile vanished.
Vanessa said, “You threatened the wrong brother.”
She fired.
Not at Victor.
At the chain holding Dr. Reeves.
The warehouse erupted.
Dante’s men poured through two entrances.
Matteo came through another.
Victor’s guards opened fire.
Elena dropped behind a steel crate.
Dante crossed open ground toward her.
“Stay down!”
A shot rang out.
Dante jerked.
Elena screamed.
He fell beside her.
Blood spread across his shirt.
And suddenly Elena was back in that emergency room four years earlier.
Same man.
Same blood.
Same terrible question.
Would she save Dante Moretti again?
May you like
Her hands were already pressing against the wound.
So she had her answer.
