Chapter 7 - The Father Who Refused to Stay Dead
Dante woke eighteen hours later.
His first word was not Khloe.
It was, “Maya?”
Khloe sat beside the hospital bed.
“Safe.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“Paulie?”
“Still irritating.”
“Good.”
Then he looked at her.
“You stayed.”
“Unfortunately.”
A weak smile appeared.
Khloe wanted to kiss him.
Instead, she handed him water.
“Your father is alive.”
Dante stopped smiling.
The monitor changed rhythm.
Khloe told him everything.
Salvatore had been arrested entering the country under a false identity. Federal agents connected him to Evergreen after receiving the files.
Dante stared at the ceiling.
“I buried him.”
“Apparently you buried somebody.”
“Closed casket.”
Khloe understood.
Another manipulation.
Another ghost.
Two days later, Dante insisted on meeting Salvatore.
Khloe went with him.
The federal interview room was cold and deliberately ugly.
Salvatore Varga entered wearing prison clothing.
Even at sixty-seven, he carried himself like royalty inconvenienced by democracy.
His gaze settled on Khloe.
“So this is why Dante changed the plan.”
Dante’s voice hardened.
“What plan?”
“To become me.”
Salvatore smiled.
Dante showed no reaction.
“You sold Marco to Kane.”
“No. I sold you.”
The words landed like bullets.
Salvatore explained.
Years earlier, Dante had wanted to move the Varga organization away from trafficking, extortion, and violence and toward legitimate shipping.
Marco supported him.
Salvatore considered it weakness.
He gave Victor Dante’s route so Victor could eliminate the rebellious heir.
But Elena and Marco took Dante’s vehicle unexpectedly.
The wrong people died.
“You killed them,” Dante said.
Salvatore shrugged.
“Victor planted the bomb.”
Khloe saw Dante’s hands curl.
She quietly placed her fingers over one fist.
He looked down.
Then relaxed it.
Salvatore noticed.
“That’s new.”
Dante ignored him.
“Why Evergreen?”
“Money.”
“You had money.”
“There is no such thing as enough.”
Salvatore leaned back.
“Victor handled distribution. Northstar moved inventory disguised as medical equipment. Wolfe washed the payments.”
“And Jared?”
“Victor’s disappointing son.”
Khloe almost laughed.
Some insults deserved accuracy.
Salvatore’s smile disappeared.
“But Jared served his purpose. He stayed close to Thomas Bennett.”
Khloe froze.
“My father?”
“Your father discovered Evergreen six years ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No. Your father was much smarter than you were told.”
Salvatore leaned toward her.
“He didn’t die from a heart attack.”
Dante stood so violently his chair fell.
Khloe could not move.
Salvatore continued.
“Victor poisoned him.”
The room blurred.
Khloe remembered the hospital.
Her father complaining of nausea.
Doctors calling it cardiac arrest.
Jared appearing at the funeral because he was “a friend from work.”
That was where their relationship had begun.
Not coincidence.
Never coincidence.
Khloe walked out.
Dante followed despite his stitches.
In the corridor, she broke.
Not delicately.
Not quietly.
Six years of grief rearranged itself inside her.
Dante said nothing.
He simply stood there until Khloe pressed her face against his chest.
Then his arms closed around her.
“I’m sorry.”
She cried harder.
Later, they returned to the penthouse.
Dante should have rested.
Instead, he cooked.
Or attempted to.
Khloe entered the kitchen to find smoke rising from a pan.
“What are you doing?”
“Dinner.”
“You’re committing a crime against chicken.”
“I have people for this.”
“Clearly.”
She turned off the burner.
For a few minutes, they stood together in ordinary silence.
No guns.
No conspiracies.
No blood.
Dante looked at her.
“After this is finished, you should leave Seattle.”
Khloe stopped.
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because wanting you near me and believing it’s good for you are different things.”
There it was.
The distance he kept trying to build.
Khloe stepped closer.
“You don’t get to decide what’s good for me.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because Jared used to say he was protecting me when he controlled everything I did.”
Pain crossed Dante’s face.
He stepped back immediately.
“I will never do that.”
“I know.”
“Then what are we arguing about?”
Khloe stared at him.
“You being afraid.”
Dante almost laughed.
“I’ve had guns pointed at me since I was sixteen.”
“I’m not talking about guns.”
Silence.
Khloe moved closer.
“You’re afraid to care about somebody because Elena and Marco died.”
His expression closed.
She touched his cheek.
“I’m not Elena.”
“I know.”
“You can’t keep protecting dead people by refusing to live.”
Something in Dante finally cracked.
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Giving her every opportunity to retreat.
Khloe didn’t.
For the first time in years, a man’s hands touched her without taking anything.
When they separated, Dante rested his forehead against hers.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Probably.”
“I have terrible ideas.”
“I’ve noticed.”
His phone rang.
Paulie.
Dante answered.
The softness vanished.
“What happened?”
He listened.
Then looked at Khloe.
“Victor Kane disappeared.”
Khloe’s stomach dropped.
“Where?”
“We don’t know.”
Paulie said something else.
Dante’s face turned cold.
“When?”
He disconnected.
“What?”
Dante stared at her.
“Jared escaped federal transport.”
Khloe stopped breathing.
Then her own phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Maya leaving a grocery store twenty minutes earlier.
Beneath it was a message.
YOU TOOK MY FATHER.
May you like
A second message arrived.
NOW I TAKE YOUR SISTER.
