Chapter 9 - THE MAN DANTE CHOSE TO BECOME
Pregnancy did something nobody in Chicago had accomplished.
It terrified Dante Valente.
Sienna was not allowed to carry grocery bags.
She was not allowed to use stairs without someone nearby.
When she sneezed three times one morning, Dante called their doctor.
When she wanted to drive, he objected.
When she threatened to sleep at Louis Diner if he continued treating her like unstable explosives, he reconsidered.
Lucia found the entire situation hilarious.
Marco understood only intermittently.
Some days he remembered the baby.
Other days he thought Sienna was seven.
On one particularly clear Sunday, Dante brought him to the lake.
The two men sat alone on a bench.
Sienna watched from a distance.
Marco looked at Dante.
“You love her?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to leave?”
Dante frowned.
“What?”
“This life.”
Dante looked across Lake Michigan.
“I already am.”
“Not business.”
Marco tapped his chest.
“Here.”
Dante understood.
The violence.
The suspicion.
The belief that love meant possession.
“I’m trying.”
Marco nodded.
“Good.”
Then his expression clouded.
“Who are you?”
Dante’s face softened.
“Dante.”
“My daughter’s husband?”
“Yes.”
Marco smiled.
“Good.”
The moment destroyed something inside Dante and rebuilt it differently.
Over the following months, he accelerated the transformation of the Valente empire.
Legitimate shipping.
Construction.
Real estate.
Security.
Lucia donated millions to neurological-care programs in Elena Moretti’s name.
Sienna created a foundation for caregivers supporting parents with dementia.
She refused to let Dante name it after her.
They called it the Elena Project.
But the past had one final debt.
Victor agreed to testify against Rocco.
In exchange, he demanded a private meeting with Dante.
Sienna hated the idea.
Dante went anyway.
Victor sat behind reinforced glass.
He looked older.
Smaller.
“You won,” Victor said.
“There was nothing to win.”
“You have the organization.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Then you’re weaker than your father.”
Dante smiled.
“That used to bother me.”
Victor studied him.
“What changed?”
Dante thought of Sienna.
Of Marco.
Of an ultrasound photograph taped inside his desk.
“I found something more important than being feared.”
Victor’s expression became bitter.
“You think love saves men like us?”
“No.”
Dante stood.
“Choices do.”
Victor’s testimony ended the Santoro network.
Rocco received a sentence that ensured he would likely die in federal prison.
Gabriel accepted a plea agreement.
Victor did not.
He wanted trial.
Perhaps he still believed he could win.
Dante stopped caring.
Three weeks before Sienna’s due date, Marco suffered a stroke.
She reached the hospital before the ambulance doors closed.
Dante arrived seconds later.
They waited all night.
At dawn, the doctor came out.
Marco survived.
But the neurological damage was severe.
Sienna sat beside his bed.
“Dad?”
His eyes opened.
She held his hand.
“I’m here.”
Marco stared at her.
No recognition.
Her heart cracked.
Then his gaze dropped to her pregnant stomach.
His fingers moved.
He touched it gently.
“Baby.”
Sienna began crying.
“Yes.”
He looked at her again.
“Sienna.”
She bent over him.
Dante turned away, giving them privacy.
Marco whispered:
“Your mother would be proud.”
Those were the clearest words he spoke that week.
A month later, Sienna went into labor during breakfast.
Dante dropped his coffee.
Lucia calmly called the doctor.
Sienna stared at both of them.
“My water broke.”
Dante became pale.
“I can see that.”
“Car.”
“Yes.”
He did not move.
“Dante.”
“Yes.”
“Get the car.”
“Right.”
He walked toward the wrong door.
Lucia grabbed his sleeve.
“That is the pantry.”
Eight hours later, Dante Valente stood in a hospital room holding his daughter.
He had held weapons.
Signed contracts worth hundreds of millions.
Ordered men twice his age out of rooms with a look.
Nothing prepared him for seven pounds and four ounces of sleeping baby.
Sienna watched him.
“Well?”
Dante’s eyes were wet.
“She’s tiny.”
“That tends to happen with babies.”
“What if I drop her?”
“You won’t.”
“What if—”
“Dante.”
He looked at her.
“You’re already her father.”
He swallowed.
Lucia entered with Marco in a wheelchair.
Marco looked at the baby.
For a long moment, nobody knew whether he understood.
Then he smiled.
“Elena.”
Sienna’s eyes filled.
She looked at Dante.
They had not chosen a name yet.
Dante nodded.
Sienna placed the baby in Marco’s arms.
“Elena Lucia Valente.”
Lucia immediately started crying.
Marco stared down at his granddaughter.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Welcome home.”
