Chapter 9 - The Man Who Came Back From the DeadLucy called Dante before taking off her coat.
He answered on the first ring.
“Lucy?”
His voice changed when he said her name.
Six months disappeared.
“Where are you?”
“Philadelphia.”
“Are you alone?”
Pause.
“Yes.”
“Don’t be.”
His tone sharpened.
“What happened?”
Lucy photographed the message.
Sent it.
Silence.
Then Dante said, “Lock your door.”
Someone knocked.
Lucy froze.
“Dante.”
“Do not open it.”
Another knock.
Then a familiar voice.
“Lucy?”
Her mother.
Lucy opened the door.
Anna entered, breathless.
“We have a problem.”
“That sentence seems hereditary.”
Anna saw the photograph.
Her face changed.
“Sanz.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
Dante remained on speaker.
“Explain.”
Sanz’s body had never been recovered after authorities raided one of his coastal properties.
Everyone assumed he had fled overseas.
Anna discovered otherwise.
He had remained in the United States under another identity.
And he wanted revenge.
Not against Dante.
Against Lucy.
Because she had become something Sanz could not tolerate.
Proof that Samuel Warren had beaten him.
Dante was in Boston 4 hours later.
Lucy opened her apartment door.
For several seconds neither moved.
Dante looked different.
Less polished.
No black suit.
No armed entourage visible.
He wore a dark coat and exhaustion.
Lucy smiled despite herself.
“You look terrible.”
“I drove 4 hours.”
“You own helicopters.”
“Not anymore.”
“Right.”
He looked at her.
“You look good.”
“Better than terrible?”
“Significantly.”
Anna cleared her throat.
They separated despite not having touched.
The plan was simple.
Sanz believed the final list still existed only in Lucy’s possession.
They would make him believe she intended to sell it.
The meeting was arranged at an abandoned hotel outside Atlantic City.
Dante hated every second of the plan.
Lucy reminded him that it was hers.
That silenced him.
Mostly.
Sanz arrived shortly before midnight.
Older.
Thinner.
Desperate.
Lucy waited inside the hotel ballroom.
“You destroyed everything,” he said.
“No. You did.”
“You think Moretti changed?”
Lucy looked toward the darkness where Dante waited.
“I think people decide what they become next.”
Sanz laughed.
“Samuel believed that too.”
“You hated my father because he understood something you didn’t.”
“What?”
“Language isn’t power because it lets you manipulate people.”
Lucy stepped closer.
“It’s power because it lets people understand each other.”
Sanz’s expression hardened.
“You sound like him.”
“Good.”
He reached inside his coat.
Dante emerged.
“Don’t.”
Sanz smiled.
“You always were predictable around her.”
“And you always talk too much.”
Police lights exploded through the windows.
Sanz turned.
Anna had already transmitted the meeting.
Federal agents surrounded the building.
Sanz raised his weapon.
Lucy shouted his name.
He looked at her.
That second was enough.
Dante knocked the gun away.
Agents flooded the room.
Sanz was arrested alive.
No glorious death.
No escape.
No final empire.
Just handcuffs.
Lucy watched him disappear into the back of a vehicle.
“It’s over,” she whispered.
Dante stood beside her.
“For him.”
She turned.
“And us?”
He did not answer immediately.
“I don’t know.”
For once, uncertainty did not frighten her.
They walked toward the empty beach.
Atlantic waves rolled beneath the moon.
Dante shoved his hands into his coat.
“I opened a company.”
Lucy laughed.
“That sounded painfully normal.”
“It feels unnatural.”
“What kind?”
“International logistics security.”
“Legal?”
“Enzo asks that question every morning.”
“And?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
Dante looked at her.
“I have an office.”
“Congratulations.”
“It has terrible coffee.”
“Tragic.”
“And I need someone who understands international contracts.”
Lucy stopped.
“Is this a job offer?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I learned my lesson.”
“Did you?”
“I was going to offer you ownership.”
She blinked.
“That’s worse.”
“Probably.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“I didn’t come here to bring you back.”
“I know.”
“I came because you were in danger.”
“I know.”
“And because I wanted to see you.”
Lucy’s heart tightened.
“I know.”
Dante looked toward the ocean.
“I thought giving you freedom meant never asking for anything.”
“And?”
“I think that was cowardice.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Dante faced her.
“I want you in my life.”
No command.
No bargain.
No threat.
“I want mornings where you criticize my Italian. I want arguments about contracts. I want you stealing my coffee and pretending you didn’t. I want to know what happens when neither of us is running from anybody.”
Lucy’s eyes filled.
“And if I say no?”
“I drive back to Philadelphia.”
“And if I say yes?”
Dante stepped closer.
“Then we figure out what yes means.”
Lucy smiled.
“I love you.”
He stopped.
She had imagined saying those words for 6 months.
They felt surprisingly simple.
Dante touched her face.
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“Lucy.”
“You heard me.”
“I speak terrible Italian, not English.”
She laughed.
Then kissed him.
Dante wrapped his arms around her.
For the first time, Lucy did not feel like a maid.
Or a translator.
Or Samuel Warren’s daughter.
She felt exactly like herself.
Then Dante’s phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Lucy sighed.
“You should answer.”
“I strongly disagree.”
“Dante.”
He answered.
Enzo shouted loudly enough that Lucy heard him.
Dante’s face changed.
“What happened?”
Enzo continued.
Dante slowly looked at Lucy.
She groaned.
“Please tell me nobody came back from the dead.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“My mother bought us a house.”
Lucy stared.
“What?”
Dante closed his eyes.
“Apparently she thinks we’re getting married.”
Lucy began laughing.
Dante looked offended.
“This is not funny.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Lucy.”
She took his hand.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
Dante stopped.
The word hung between them.
May you like
Home.
Then he followed her.
