Chapter 9 - The Dead Brother’s Return
Marcus Romano had not died twelve years ago.
Dante explained the truth before sunrise.
Marcus had been twenty-four when a Romano warehouse exploded.
Three bodies were recovered.
One carried Marcus’s watch.
DNA testing at the time was inconclusive.
Giovanni Romano declared his younger son dead.
Dante never questioned it.
“Why would he fake his death?” Sophie asked.
“Because my father discovered Marcus was working with Victor.”
The answer connected everything.
Victor.
Whitmore.
Bellini.
Marcus.
Not one conspiracy.
Generations of it.
Dante’s phone rang again.
This time Marcus gave instructions.
Come alone to Chicago.
Bring the original Bennett ledgers.
Or Sophie would die.
Sophie stared at the phone.
“He doesn’t have me.”
“Not yet.”
“Then we don’t play his game.”
Dante looked at her.
“I won’t risk you.”
“You don’t get to decide alone.”
“Sophie.”
“No. We’ve done this already. You protect me by hiding things. I get furious. Someone shoots something expensive.”
Despite himself, Dante almost smiled.
She stepped closer.
“We do it together.”
Luca arrived that afternoon.
The plan was simple enough to sound dangerous.
They would give Marcus what he wanted.
Almost.
Sophie produced copies of the ledgers.
Dante traveled to Chicago.
Sophie remained in California under protection.
That was the official plan.
The real plan involved Sophie boarding Luca’s jet two hours later.
When Dante discovered her in Chicago, he looked ready to commit a felony.
“No.”
“Hello to you too.”
“You were supposed to stay.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You cannot change your mind about being bait.”
“Apparently I can.”
“Sophie.”
“Dante.”
Luca quietly left the room.
Coward.
Marcus chose the Romano family’s abandoned lakeside mansion for the exchange.
Dante had not entered it since childhood.
They arrived near midnight.
Marcus waited inside.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
Same dark eyes.
Same height.
But where Dante’s stillness came from control, Marcus’s came from emptiness.
He smiled at Sophie.
“So this is her.”
Dante moved in front of her.
Marcus laughed.
“Still heroic.”
“Take the ledgers.”
“Later.”
Marcus wanted something else.
The Romano accounts Dante had frozen.
Hundreds of millions accumulated through old criminal businesses.
Dante had intended to surrender much of it through settlements and restitution.
Marcus believed it belonged to him.
“You dismantled our family for a maid,” Marcus said.
Sophie stepped around Dante.
“For the record, former maid.”
Marcus stared.
She continued.
“I own a vineyard now.”
Dante closed his eyes briefly.
Marcus laughed.
“I like her.”
“Most people do,” Dante said. “You still can’t have her.”
Marcus’s smile vanished.
He raised a gun.
Dante didn’t move.
“Account codes.”
“No.”
Marcus pointed the weapon at Sophie.
“Now?”
Dante’s eyes turned cold.
Sophie watched Marcus’s left hand.
A nervous twitch.
She recognized it from the security footage Luca had recovered.
Marcus had personally entered Dante’s study months earlier disguised among catering staff.
He planted TB-17.
Sophie suddenly understood.
“You wanted us to find Whitmore.”
Marcus looked at her.
Dante frowned.
Sophie continued.
“You planted my father’s bottle because Whitmore had become dangerous to you.”
Marcus smiled.
“Smart.”
“You used me.”
“I gave you justice.”
“You gave yourself cover.”
Marcus had orchestrated the rediscovery of Thomas’s evidence to eliminate Whitmore and Bellini.
But Sophie and Dante had uncovered too much.
So now Marcus needed them gone too.
Sophie laughed softly.
Marcus frowned.
“What?”
“You made one mistake.”
“Which?”
“You assumed my father hid only one copy.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
“There are no others.”
“There are now.”
Sophie held up her phone.
“Everything was released twenty minutes ago.”
Marcus lunged.
Dante moved faster.
The gun fired.
Glass exploded.
Luca and federal agents entered from both sides.
Marcus grabbed Sophie.
She drove her elbow into his ribs.
Dante struck him.
Marcus fell through the open terrace doors.
He landed against the railing.
For one second, he hung over the dark lake.
Dante grabbed his wrist.
Marcus stared up.
“You should let me fall.”
Dante’s face twisted with twelve years of grief and betrayal.
Sophie watched.
Dante could release him.
Nobody might blame him.
Instead, Dante pulled.
Agents helped drag Marcus onto the terrace.
Marcus stared at his brother.
“Why?”
Dante stood.
“Because I’m done letting this family turn me into someone I hate.”
Marcus was arrested.
No execution.
No secret disappearance.
No Romano vengeance.
Just handcuffs.
Evidence.
Consequences.
Outside, dawn began breaking over Lake Michigan.
Sophie stood beside Dante.
“It’s over.”
He looked toward the horizon.
“I don’t know what I am without all this.”
She took his hand.
“You’re terrible at vineyard maintenance.”
He looked at her.
“Promising start.”
“You’re arrogant.”
“Continue.”
“Your wine choices need supervision.”
“Cruel.”
“And you love me.”
His expression softened.
“Hopelessly.”
Sophie leaned against him.
“Then maybe start there.”
Three months later, Dante sold the Chicago mansion.
Six months later, he completed the legal restructuring of the Romano companies.
Legitimate holdings remained.
Everything else went into restitution agreements, investigations or closure.
He moved to California.
The first week, he bought a tractor.
Sophie stared at it.
“You bought the most expensive tractor available.”
“It had better specifications.”
“It has leather seats.”
“I value lumbar support.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You love me.”
Unfortunately, he had discovered that argument.
More unfortunately, it worked.
But Dante had one final secret.
And on the anniversary of the day Sophie stole his wine, he placed a familiar bottle on the desk inside Bennett Ridge’s restored tasting room.
Dark glass.
Cream label.
Deep burgundy seal.
May you like
Beside it sat one crystal glass.
And beneath the glass was a small velvet box.
