Chapter 4 - The Lie Behind the Wedding
By sunrise, Elena’s apartment had three armed guards downstairs.
She hated it.
She hated Dante’s men outside her mother’s door. She hated the black SUV waiting at the curb. She especially hated that Dante’s precautions made sense.
Charles Harlow had threatened her mother once.
Someone had broken into Dante’s penthouse.
And Sofia’s letter connected both families.
Elena stood beside the kitchen window.
“I’m not hiding.”
Dante sat at the table reading copies of Sofia’s ledger.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You put armed men downstairs.”
“I put armed men downstairs because somebody may try to kill us.”
“That sounds remarkably like hiding.”
“It’s remarkably like staying alive.”
Isabel watched them from the stove.
“You two argue like you’ve been married ten years.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Mamá.”
“What?”
“We are not actually married.”
Isabel looked at Dante.
“Yet.”
Dante coughed.
Elena stared at her mother.
Twenty-four hours earlier, Isabel had barely known his name. Apparently imminent danger had awakened her matchmaking instincts.
Dante’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
“Marcus.”
Elena frowned.
“Why is Marcus calling you?”
“He isn’t.”
Dante turned the phone toward her.
A security message showed Marcus entering Salvatore Holdings.
“He came to my office.”
“Why?”
“We can ask.”
An hour later, Elena entered Dante’s downtown headquarters through a private elevator.
Marcus was waiting in a conference room.
His eyes moved immediately to Elena’s bare left hand.
“You’re not married.”
Dante closed the door.
“That’s why you came?”
“No.”
Marcus looked exhausted.
“Vivien disappeared.”
Elena blinked.
“What?”
“She left the hotel around four this morning. No note. Her phone is off.”
“Maybe she realized marriage to you was a mistake faster than I did.”
Marcus flinched.
Dante remained impassive.
“Why come here?”
“Because before she left, she was asking about you.”
Marcus looked at Elena.
“Specifically, your mother.”
The humor disappeared.
“What did she ask?”
“Whether Isabel still lived in Pilsen.”
Dante and Elena exchanged a look.
Marcus noticed.
“What is happening?”
Elena sat.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Vivien may have helped cover up a woman’s death.”
Marcus laughed once.
Then realized nobody else was laughing.
Elena told him enough.
Not everything.
By the end, Marcus was pale.
“No.”
“You said that about the affair too,” Elena replied.
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
Marcus rubbed his face.
“She told me something last night.”
“What?”
“When she saw your ring, she said, ‘He wasn’t supposed to have that yet.’”
Dante went still.
“Yet?”
Marcus nodded.
“She thought I didn’t hear.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Anything else?”
“She made a call from the bathroom. I heard her say, ‘Sofia left something with the maid.’”
Elena’s blood chilled.
Dante immediately reached for his phone.
“Move Isabel now.”
Marcus looked between them.
“Where?”
“Somewhere Charles Harlow cannot reach.”
Marcus stood.
“I can help.”
Dante looked at him with open contempt.
“You’ve helped enough.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“This isn’t about Elena.”
“It became about Elena when your wife sent her an invitation designed to put her in the same building as me.”
That sentence changed everything.
Elena looked at Dante.
“You think the wedding was bait.”
“Yes.”
“For you?”
“Or your mother.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Vivien chose the guest list herself.”
Elena remembered the invitation.
The wink.
The humiliation.
What if cruelty had not been Vivien’s only motive?
“What did she expect to happen?”
Dante answered quietly.
“She expected me to notice you.”
Elena stared.
“You think she knew you’d recognize my name?”
“Your mother’s name.”
Dante stood.
“Charles knew Sofia gave Isabel something. He apparently never found out what. If he learned I was reopening Sofia’s case, he needed to know whether Isabel had ever told you.”
“So they put me in front of you.”
“And watched.”
Marcus whispered, “Jesus.”
A phone rang.
Elena’s.
Unknown number.
Dante gestured for her to answer on speaker.
“Elena?”
Vivien.
Elena’s entire body tightened.
“Where are you?”
“Listen carefully.”
Vivien sounded terrified.
“I have maybe sixty seconds.”
“Where are you?”
“Your mother is in danger.”
“We know.”
“No, you don’t.”
A sound came through the line.
A door.
Vivien lowered her voice.
“My father knows Sofia gave Isabel the key.”
“How?”
“Because I told him.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“You knew.”
“I was twenty-one.”
“You helped him.”
“I didn’t know he would kill her!”
Silence.
Even Dante reacted.
Vivien began crying.
“He told me Sofia was stealing from him. I believed him. I told him where she was. By the time I understood—”
“Who killed Sofia?”
“I don’t know. My father arranged the crash, but someone else delivered her to him.”
Dante’s expression turned lethal.
“Who?”
Vivien heard his voice.
“Dante?”
“Who betrayed my sister?”
“I never saw his face.”
“Then what do you know?”
“He wore a Salvatore family ring.”
Dante looked down at his own hand.
A heavy black signet ring bore his family crest.
Someone inside the Salvatore family.
Exactly as Sofia had written.
Vivien suddenly gasped.
“No.”
A man’s voice sounded distantly.
The call ended.
“Vivien?”
Nothing.
Marcus grabbed Elena’s phone.
“Vivien!”
Dante was already moving.
“Trace it.”
His security chief entered.
“Working.”
Thirty seconds.
Then—
“South Side. Abandoned Harlow construction property near the river.”
Marcus headed for the door.
Dante stopped him.
“You stay.”
“That’s my wife.”
“And you’re an investment banker.”
“I’m going.”
Elena expected Dante to refuse.
Instead he stared at Marcus for two seconds.
“Stay behind my men.”
They found Vivien’s car inside the construction garage.
Empty.
Her purse lay on the ground.
One heel beside it.
Marcus went white.
Dante’s men spread through the building.
Then a shout came from upstairs.
They found Vivien tied to a chair inside an unfinished office.
Alive.
Marcus rushed toward her.
Dante stopped beside the doorway.
Something was wrong.
“Elena.”
She followed his gaze.
Written across the concrete wall in black paint were six words.
THE KEY WAS NEVER FOR THE LOCKER.
Elena stared.
Dante slowly removed the brass key from his pocket.
If locker 317 was not what Sofia intended—
Then what was?
Vivien lifted her tear-streaked face.
“He knows you found the ledger.”
“Who?”
Dante asked.
Vivien shook her head.
“I don’t know his name.”
“You saw him?”
“No. But my father called him before they left.”
“What did he say?”
Vivien swallowed.
“He called him Uncle.”
Dante’s face lost all expression.
Elena knew enough to understand that was worse than anger.
“How many uncles do you have?” she asked.
May you like
Dante stared at the wall.
“Only one.”
