Chapter 7 - The Rabbit in the Warehouse
The warehouse smelled of dust, ink, and rusted machinery.
Dante entered carrying the flash drive.
Emma walked beside him.
Marco and Salvatore remained outside with men positioned around the perimeter.
Victor had demanded only Dante and Emma.
Dante intended to give him the illusion of obedience.
A light snapped on.
Lily sat on a wooden chair twenty feet away.
She was not tied.
Sir Hops rested in her lap.
Julian stood behind her.
Emma moved.
Dante caught her arm.
“Wait.”
“Mommy!”
“I’m here, baby.”
Victor Sloane stepped from behind a printing press.
Lily had drawn him well.
Large.
Older than Emma.
Scar beneath his chin.
“Dante Valenti.”
Victor smiled.
“I’ve waited years to meet you without ten armed men around.”
“You have something of mine.”
Victor looked at Lily.
“She isn’t yours.”
Dante’s expression did not change.
“That wasn’t what I said.”
Emma looked at him.
Victor laughed.
“Interesting.”
Dante held up the drive.
“Let her go.”
“First, I verify it.”
“No.”
Victor’s smile faded.
“You aren’t negotiating from strength.”
“Neither are you.”
Dante glanced at Julian.
“Are you?”
Julian’s face remained blank.
Victor’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Dante spoke quickly.
“Your son’s name is Nathan Carver.”
Julian’s eyes widened.
Victor went still.
“Twenty-six. Third-year resident. Boston.”
“Shut up,” Victor said.
Dante ignored him.
“We found him.”
Julian stared.
Dante continued.
“He’s alive.”
Julian’s face broke.
For the first time in thirteen years, Dante saw his friend lose control.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
Victor pulled a pistol.
Emma gasped.
Julian moved faster.
He struck Victor’s wrist.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Dante lunged.
Emma ran toward Lily.
Chaos exploded.
Victor slammed Julian into a steel column.
Dante grabbed Victor from behind.
They crashed against an old printing table.
Victor drove an elbow into Dante’s ribs.
Dante answered with a punch that broke Victor’s nose.
Julian recovered.
Victor raised the pistol again.
A shot rang out.
Everyone froze.
Victor looked down.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Julian held the gun.
Victor collapsed.
Lily screamed.
Emma covered her eyes and pulled her against her chest.
Dante stood breathing heavily.
Julian stared at Victor’s body.
Then dropped the weapon.
“Dante.”
Dante said nothing.
“I’m sorry.”
“You killed Michael.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Emma went still.
Lily clung tighter.
Julian looked at her.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Emma’s voice shook.
“But it did.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Julian swallowed.
“I followed him. I wanted the files. He realized I was behind him and accelerated. I tried to block him.”
His voice cracked.
“He lost control.”
“You left him there.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe it was an accident.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me struggle.”
Julian looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“And Victor?”
“He found footage proving I had chased Michael. He threatened to give it to police, then found Nathan.”
Julian looked at Dante.
“I thought my son would die.”
Dante’s expression remained hard.
“So you gave Victor access to my home.”
“Yes.”
“You watched Emma.”
“Yes.”
“You let him threaten Lily.”
“I never let him touch her.”
“That distinction matters more to you than it does to me.”
Julian nodded.
“I know.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Dante looked at Emma.
She seemed surprised.
“I called them before we came,” he said.
Julian stared at him.
“Police?”
“Yes.”
That would once have been unthinkable.
But something had changed.
Perhaps it had begun when a five-year-old walked into his library and asked for muscles.
Dante was tired of a world where every mistake ended with another body.
Julian looked at Victor.
“He’s alive.”
Barely.
Paramedics could save him.
If they arrived quickly.
Dante could stop them.
He did not.
“Julian Carver,” Dante said quietly, “when the police arrive, you tell them everything.”
Julian nodded.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
That meant Michael.
Victor.
The theft.
The blackmail.
Potentially years of crimes.
Including crimes connected to Dante.
Salvatore stared.
“You understand what you’re doing?”
“Yes.”
“You could destroy the family.”
Dante looked toward Lily.
She was crying into her mother’s shoulder.
“No,” he said.
“I’m trying to stop destroying families.”
Police entered minutes later.
Julian surrendered.
Victor survived.
Emma gave her statement.
Lily refused to release her mother.
Outside, dawn was beginning to brighten the Queens skyline.
Dante stood beside the ambulance while a paramedic examined the cut above his eyebrow.
Lily approached.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She studied him.
“Did you win?”
Dante glanced toward Julian being placed in a police vehicle.
“No.”
Lily frowned.
“But the bad man is gone.”
“Yes.”
“So you won.”
Dante crouched.
“Sometimes everybody loses something.”
She considered that with five-year-old seriousness.
Then she wrapped both arms around his neck.
Dante froze.
Emma watched.
Slowly, awkwardly, he put his arms around the child.
Lily whispered into his ear.
“You’re strong.”
May you like
Dante closed his eyes.
For reasons he could not explain, those two words nearly broke him.
