Chapter 8 - The Woman He Chose Over His Empire
Dante became someone else when Sofia disappeared.
Not louder.
Quieter.
That was worse.
Every door in Manhattan seemed to open for him.
Every camera was checked.
Every contact called.
Nothing.
Then Lorenzo sent a video.
Sofia sat tied to a chair.
Bruised but alive.
Lorenzo stood behind her.
“One exchange.”
He looked into the camera.
“Elena Voss for Sofia Rossi.”
Dante shut off the screen.
“No.”
Nobody had suggested accepting.
Yet.
I looked at him.
“He wants the ledger.”
“He wants you.”
“Because he thinks I know where the copies are.”
“You’re not going.”
“Dante—”
“No.”
I followed him into his office.
“Sofia is your sister.”
“And you think that makes your life expendable?”
“I think it means we need a plan.”
“I have one.”
“Does it involve shooting everybody?”
“Approximately.”
“Excellent. Very sophisticated.”
He slammed both hands against the desk.
“Do you understand what he’ll do to you?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t.”
His voice cracked.
That stopped us both.
Dante looked away.
“When I was seventeen, I watched my father bleed to death.”
His voice was quieter now.
“I spent years believing I should have seen it coming. Then you appeared.”
“Dante.”
“I cannot watch it happen again.”
I crossed the room.
“You won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.”
I took his hand.
“But you promised nobody would touch me.”
His eyes met mine.
“So keep your promise.”
The exchange was arranged at an abandoned ferry terminal.
I went.
Dante hated every second.
Lorenzo brought Sofia.
We brought what looked like the original ledger.
I walked forward alone.
Sofia walked toward us.
Halfway, Lorenzo stopped her.
“Ledger.”
I held it up.
“Her first.”
“Elena,” Sofia whispered, “don’t.”
Lorenzo shoved her forward.
She ran.
The instant she crossed the midpoint, Dante’s men moved.
So did Lorenzo’s.
Gunfire erupted.
I dropped.
Dante reached me.
Then Lorenzo appeared behind him.
Gun raised.
I saw it.
“Dante!”
I shoved him.
The shot fired.
Pain burned across my shoulder.
Dante caught me before I hit the ground.
His face changed.
“Elena?”
“I’m okay.”
Blood spread down my sleeve.
He looked toward Lorenzo.
For one second, I thought Dante would kill him.
Instead, federal agents surrounded the terminal.
Keene had tracked everything.
Lorenzo was arrested again.
This time, there would be no convenient escape.
Dante stayed beside me in the ambulance.
At the hospital.
During surgery.
When I woke, he was sitting beside the bed.
Still wearing my blood on his shirt.
“You look terrible,” I whispered.
His head snapped up.
“Elena.”
“I’ve had better dates.”
He laughed once.
Then covered his face.
His shoulders shook.
Dante Rossi was crying.
That scared me more than the gunshot.
“Hey.”
I reached toward him.
He caught my hand.
“I almost lost you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I brought this into your life.”
“Technically, my father did.”
“Elena.”
“I’m serious.”
He looked at me.
I squeezed his fingers.
“You didn’t choose what Lorenzo did. But you get to choose what happens next.”
His gaze sharpened.
“What do you mean?”
“The empire.”
He understood.
Weeks later, Dante did something nobody expected.
He dismantled it.
Not overnight.
Not magically.
Legitimate businesses were separated.
Illegal operations closed.
Dangerous partnerships terminated.
Evidence was turned over through lawyers.
There were consequences.
Dante accepted them.
Some charges disappeared because Lorenzo had fabricated evidence.
Others didn’t.
Dante negotiated.
Paid enormous fines.
Surrendered assets.
Cooperated in investigations.
For the first time in his adult life, he chose a future that didn’t require fear to maintain.
Then, one rainy evening, he came to Vespers.
The bar had reopened.
New windows.
New piano.
Same mahogany counter.
I poured him bourbon.
He didn’t touch it.
“What?”
“I bought the building.”
I stared at him.
“You what?”
“Marcus was going to lose it because of repair debt.”
“You bought my workplace?”
“Yes.”
“Dante.”
“I’m not interfering.”
“You are impossible.”
“I’m giving it to Marcus.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Debt free.”
“Why?”
He looked around.
“Because this place mattered to you before I did.”
My anger disappeared.
Damn him.
Then he slid something across the bar.
A key.
“What’s this?”
“My apartment.”
“I know what a key is.”
“I want you to have one.”
I looked at him.
“Is this your terrifying mafia version of asking me to move in?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“It’s my terrifying former-mafia version of telling you there’s always a place for you.”
My chest tightened.
I picked up the key.
Then kissed him across the bar.
Customers applauded.
I immediately pulled away.
Dante smiled.
“You’re blushing.”
“I hate everyone.”
“Especially me?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
May you like
That was the problem.
I didn’t hate him at all.
