Chapter 2 - The Name Roman Buried
I should have been afraid of Dante Vale.
Instead, I was afraid of going home.
That was why I climbed into his car.
The door had barely closed before Dante removed his coat and held it toward me.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m angry.”
“People can be both.”
I looked at him.
He didn't smile. He simply placed the coat beside me rather than forcing it over my shoulders.
That tiny act of restraint affected me more than it should have.
The car pulled away from the Drake.
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?”
Another strange question.
Roman never asked where I wanted to go. There were places I was permitted to be and places I wasn’t.
“My father’s house.”
Dante’s gaze sharpened.
“The Moretti house?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been empty four years.”
“You know a lot about my family.”
“I knew your father.”
That made me turn.
“You knew him?”
“Better than Roman wanted you to know.”
My phone was still upstairs, so I couldn't see the videos already spreading across Chicago social media. I didn't know that strangers were replaying the moment I handed Vanessa the sapphire.
But Dante did.
His phone vibrated repeatedly.
He ignored it.
“Why was Roman afraid?” I asked.
Dante stared through the windshield.
“When?”
“When I gave Vanessa the ring.”
His silence answered before his words did.
“You should ask Vanessa.”
“She looked terrified too.”
“Then you noticed more than Roman intended.”
A knot formed in my stomach.
“What is that ring?”
Dante finally faced me.
“That depends. What did Roman tell you?”
“That it belonged to his great-grandmother.”
“Lie.”
“That every Castellano wife wore it.”
“Another lie.”
My skin went cold.
Dante leaned back.
“That sapphire belonged to your mother.”
I laughed once because the alternative was screaming.
“My mother died when I was six.”
“I know.”
“My father never mentioned a sapphire.”
“He had reasons.”
The city moved beyond the tinted windows.
I stared at my naked finger.
For four years, Roman had made me wear something that belonged to my own dead mother while convincing me it represented ownership by his family.
“Why?”
“Because the ring wasn't valuable for the stone.”
“What was valuable?”
Dante’s phone rang.
This time he looked.
His expression hardened.
“Roman?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“My security chief.”
He answered.
“Talk.”
A man's voice came faintly through the speaker.
Dante's eyes moved toward me.
“When?”
A pause.
“Understood.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“Roman sent men to your father's house.”
My breath stopped.
“Why?”
“I think we’re about to find out.”
The Moretti house stood in Lake Forest, an old brick estate surrounded by bare October trees.
When we arrived, the front gate hung open.
The lock had been cut.
Dante was out of the car before I could move.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“It’s my house.”
For a moment I expected the same tone Roman used whenever I challenged him.
Instead Dante nodded once.
“Behind me.”
We entered together.
The foyer had been destroyed.
Drawers pulled out.
Paintings removed.
Cabinets emptied.
Someone had sliced open the sofa cushions.
My father's study was worse.
His desk had been overturned.
Books covered the floor.
A section of wood paneling had been ripped from the wall.
“They were looking for something,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“How could giving away a ring cause this?”
Dante crouched beside the fireplace.
“Because Roman no longer controls who possesses it.”
I suddenly remembered something.
The ring.
The sapphire was enormous, but Roman never allowed a jeweler to clean it.
He claimed the setting was fragile.
Once, before a charity gala, I suggested having it resized.
Roman became furious.
Don't ever let anyone remove that stone from its setting.
I had thought he was sentimental.
Now I knew better.
“There’s something inside it.”
Dante looked at me.
“Possibly.”
I backed against my father's desk.
“And I just handed it to Vanessa.”
Dante’s expression was almost grimly amused.
“Which may be the most expensive act of revenge in Chicago history.”
Headlights swept across the broken windows.
Dante immediately reached inside his jacket.
I froze.
A black SUV stopped outside.
Then another.
And another.
“Roman?”
“No. Mine.”
Four men entered after Dante identified them.
They spread through the house.
One called from upstairs.
“Clear.”
Another approached.
“Mr. Vale.”
He handed Dante a photograph.
Dante stared at it before passing it to me.
My knees almost gave out.
The photograph showed my father.
Beside him stood Dante.
They were younger.
Behind them was another man I recognized instantly.
Roman's father, Salvatore Castellano.
On the back, written in my father's handwriting, were six words.
If anything happens, protect Evelyn.
I looked at Dante.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough to know your father didn't die from a heart attack.”
The room tilted.
“What did you say?”
Dante’s voice became quiet.
“Your father discovered that Salvatore Castellano had been laundering money through legitimate Moretti companies. He was preparing evidence for federal investigators.”
“No.”
“Roman knew.”
“No.”
“He helped his father stop him.”
I slapped Dante.
The sound cracked through the ruined study.
His guards went still.
Dante didn't move.
I stared at my own hand, horrified.
Then tears finally came.
Not because of Roman and Vanessa.
Because suddenly my entire marriage rearranged itself into something monstrous.
Roman had appeared three months after my father's death.
He had comforted me.
Protected me.
Married me.
He hadn't rescued an orphaned twenty-year-old woman.
He had married the daughter of the man his family had silenced.
“Why marry me?”
Dante answered softly.
“Because your father hid something before he died.”
“The ring?”
“We believe so.”
A floorboard creaked behind us.
Every guard turned.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Vanessa.
Still wearing her red dress.
Mascara streaked down her face.
And the sapphire ring was clenched in her fist.
Dante’s men reached for their weapons.
“Don't!” she cried.
I stared at her.
“How did you find me?”
“Roman said you would come here.”
She took one trembling step forward.
“He sent men after me when you left.”
She opened her hand.
The sapphire glittered beneath the study lights.
“I don't think he ever loved me.”
Her voice broke.
“I think he only needed me because he knew eventually you would do exactly what you did tonight.”
“What are you talking about?”
Vanessa looked down at the ring.
“Roman couldn't take it from you himself.”
“Why?”
“Because of your marriage contract.”
I stared.
“What contract?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“The one your father wrote.”
She raised the sapphire.
“Roman said this ring only becomes legally transferable if you surrender it willingly.”
Silence.
Dante moved first.
“Give me the ring.”
Vanessa stepped backward.
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
“There’s something else.”
She looked at me.
“Roman didn't send me here to bring this back.”
My blood chilled.
“Then why are you here?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“To warn you.”
Outside, tires screamed against gravel.
Vanessa turned white.
“He found me.”
Dante's men rushed toward the windows.
I heard doors slam outside.
Then Vanessa grabbed my hand.
“You need to open the ring before Roman gets inside.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard him talking to his lawyer.”
May you like
Her fingers closed desperately around mine.
“He said if you ever learned what was hidden inside it, the Castellano family would lose everything.”
