Chapter 1 - SHE TOOK MY PLACE
“She took my place.” Elena Moretti said it so quietly that Dante almost wished she had screamed.
Screaming he understood. Rage he understood. Threats, betrayal, men pounding fists on mahogany tables while reaching beneath their jackets—those belonged to the world Dante Moretti had survived since he was nineteen.
But his seven-months-pregnant wife sitting on the edge of their bed with one hand over their unborn daughter, looking at him as if she had finally accepted that she was alone?
That frightened him.
“And the worst part,” Elena whispered, “is that you let her.”
Behind them, Victoria Hayes stood in the doorway wearing a crimson silk dress and the expression of a woman who had spent six weeks convincing herself she belonged there.
Dante looked from Victoria to his wife.
For the first time in fifteen years, the most feared man in half of Chicago had no answer.
Three hours earlier, Elena had been making lasagna.
Not just any lasagna.
Dante’s mother’s recipe.
His birthday had never been something he celebrated. His mother had died when he was sixteen, and after that, birthdays became reminders of everything time could take.
Elena knew this.
She knew almost everything about him that nobody else noticed.
She knew he drank coffee black but secretly preferred hot chocolate on winter mornings.
She knew thunderstorms made him quiet because his father had died during one.
She knew that when Dante had nightmares, he never shouted.
He simply reached across the mattress until he found her.
So despite swollen ankles and the constant ache in her lower back, Elena had spent the afternoon cooking.
She had even driven to a little Italian grocery store in Oak Park because Dante once mentioned that his mother used imported tomatoes.
She wanted him to come home and remember that his birthday could mean something besides grief.
Instead, she found another woman’s scarf in their bedroom.
Red silk.
Expensive perfume.
Victoria’s perfume.
Elena stood in the private sitting room beside the master bedroom, staring at it draped over Dante’s leather chair.
For several seconds, she tried to be reasonable.
Maybe Victoria had visited earlier.
Maybe a housekeeper had moved it.
Maybe—
A folded piece of paper slipped from the scarf and landed on the carpet.
Elena bent carefully and picked it up.
Six words were written across the page.
Tonight, he’ll finally know the truth.
Her stomach tightened.
Not from the baby.
From fear.
Footsteps crossed the hall.
Victoria walked in without knocking.
“You really shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.”
Elena turned.
Victoria was beautiful in the polished way magazines taught women to envy. Blonde hair. Diamond earrings. Perfect posture.
Elena looked down at the scarf.
“Why is this in my bedroom?”
Victoria’s lips curved.
“Because Dante asked me to leave it here.”
Elena felt something inside her crack.
“That isn’t true.”
“Isn’t it?”
Victoria glanced toward the wedding photograph on the nightstand.
Dante and Elena outside a small church in Lake Geneva. Dante had been smiling at Elena instead of the camera.
Victoria studied it almost contemptuously.
“You know, everyone once assumed Dante would marry me.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No.”
Victoria’s gaze returned to her.
“He married you.”
The way she said it made marriage sound like an unfortunate administrative error.
Elena straightened.
“Get out.”
Victoria didn’t move.
“Powerful men make strange choices when they’re grieving. Sometimes they convince themselves they want peace because chaos has exhausted them.”
Elena’s face went cold.
“And you think I’m peace?”
“I think you were.”
Footsteps stopped behind Victoria.
Dante appeared.
His black dress shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looked exhausted.
Then he saw the scarf in Elena’s hand.
His expression changed immediately.
“Victoria.”
One word.
A warning.
“I told you to wait downstairs.”
Elena stared at him.
“Why?”
Nobody answered.
Her daughter kicked suddenly.
Elena pressed her palm against her stomach.
Dante crossed the room instantly.
“Elena?”
She stepped backward.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
That hurt him more than he expected.
“What is going on?” Elena asked.
“Nothing between Victoria and me.”
Victoria opened her mouth.
Dante turned sharply.
“Not another word.”
Elena laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“Do you understand how that looks?”
“Elena—”
“For six weeks, she has walked through this house like she owns it.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“She’s here because of business.”
“She answers your phone.”
His expression flickered.
“She knows your schedule.”
Silence.
“She has meetings with you after midnight.”
“Those meetings concern matters I didn’t want near you.”
Elena blinked.
“Near me?”
Dante immediately realized his mistake.
But she was already standing straighter.
“I am your wife, Dante. I am carrying your child. What exactly is your definition of near?”
Victoria looked almost amused.
Dante saw it.
For some reason, that expression bothered him more than anything Elena had said.
Elena continued.
“She knows stories about your mother you never told me. She knows names you refuse to say in this house. Every time I ask what’s happening, you tell me not to worry.”
Her voice trembled.
“I stopped asking because I started feeling stupid.”
“You are not stupid.”
“Then why does she know your life better than I do?”
Dante had faced guns without flinching.
He had walked into negotiations knowing two men at the table planned to kill him.
But he hesitated now.
Only for a second.
It was enough.
Elena sat down slowly.
Her face emptied.
That terrified him.
Dante knelt before her.
“Elena.”
She looked past him toward Victoria.
Then she whispered the words.
“She took my place.”
Dante’s chest tightened.
Elena finally looked at him.
“And the worst part is, you let her.”
Dante reached for her hand, but stopped halfway.
For the first time, he wondered how many times during the last six weeks she had needed him and received somebody else instead.
How many dinners had gone cold?
How many appointments had she attended alone?
How many times had Victoria answered his phone and decided his wife wasn’t important enough to interrupt him?
His gaze shifted toward Victoria.
She wasn’t watching Elena.
She was staring at the folded note lying beside the bed.
Dante picked it up.
Tonight, he’ll finally know the truth.
His face went white.
Elena noticed immediately.
“What?”
Dante stared at the handwriting.
He knew the slant of the T.
The exaggerated curve of the final H.
He had seen it on birthday cards, school notebooks, and dozens of stupid notes left on the windshield of his first car.
“Who gave you this?”
Victoria’s confidence disappeared.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dante turned toward her.
“Who gave you this?”
“I didn’t write it.”
“I know.”
Elena’s pulse quickened.
“Dante?”
He barely seemed to hear her.
He was staring at the note as if it had risen from a grave.
“Get out, Victoria.”
“Excuse me?”
“Leave the bedroom.”
Victoria folded her arms.
“You cannot possibly think—”
“Get out.”
His voice never rose.
It didn’t need to.
Victoria walked into the hallway.
Before she disappeared, Dante added, “Do not leave the house.”
The door shut.
Elena watched him.
“You recognize the handwriting.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“It belonged to my brother.”
Elena frowned.
“Luca?”
He nodded.
She had heard the name only once.
Luca Moretti.
Three years younger than Dante.
Dead in a warehouse fire eleven years ago.
Dante kept one photograph of them inside a locked drawer in his office.
He had never spoken about the funeral.
“Luca is dead,” Elena said.
Dante opened his eyes.
“That’s what I believed.”
A chill moved through her.
“What does that mean?”
Dante sat beside her.
For once, he looked less like a criminal kingpin and more like a man carrying something too heavy.
“Three weeks ago, a photograph was delivered to my office.”
He unlocked his phone.
The image showed a man outside a restaurant in Milwaukee.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar running toward his eyebrow.
But recognizable.
Elena stared.
“That’s Luca?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said it was him.”
“I said it looked like him.”
She studied Dante.
“What happened after that?”
May you like
The story continues in Part 2, available in the comments below ⬇️
---
