Chapter 5 - NO ONE TOUCHES MY FAMILY
Marco Valente vanished before noon.
His house was empty.
His phones were abandoned.
Two of his closest men disappeared with him.
Dante did not rage.
That frightened everyone more.
He simply closed his study door and began making calls.
Bank accounts froze.
Warehouses changed ownership.
Men who had pledged loyalty to Marco discovered that loyalty became fragile when salaries stopped arriving.
By sunset, three of them wanted to talk.
By midnight, Dante knew where Marco was going.
The Moretti estate.
Luca looked at the map spread across Dante's desk.
"Vittorio won't protect him after the attack failed."
"He doesn't need protection," Dante said.
"He needs a negotiation."
"About what?"
Dante stared at the map.
"Me."
Clare tried to leave the next morning.
Not forever.
At least, that was what she told herself.
She packed one suitcase.
A hotel.
Maybe a week.
Somewhere without gates and guns.
Somewhere Rosie could hear a car backfire without being pulled beneath a table by a guard.
Dante found her at the bottom of the servants' staircase.
"You packed again."
Clare almost laughed.
"You seem to bring that out in me."
His expression did not change.
"Where?"
"Hotel."
"No."
She stared.
"We've had this conversation."
"This time there are men looking for you."
"There are always men looking for someone in this house."
"For you specifically."
That stopped her.
Dante stepped closer.
"Marco knows you matter."
Clare's voice dropped.
"To whom?"
He looked at her.
Neither moved.
The question sat between them, larger than either had intended.
Rosie appeared around the corner carrying her rabbit.
"Are we going away?"
Clare turned.
"Sweetheart—"
"I don't want to."
Clare closed her eyes briefly.
"Rosie."
The little girl walked to Dante.
Then, without asking, took his hand.
Dante froze.
Rosie looked up at him.
"Can we stay?"
Clare felt her heart betray her.
Dante did not answer Rosie.
He looked at Clare.
"You can."
That was all.
Not an order.
Not a command.
Clare understood the difference.
She slowly put the suitcase down.
At three that afternoon, Serafina Moretti arrived alone.
No convoy.
No assistants.
No white coat.
She looked nothing like the woman who had entered the mansion days earlier.
Her hair was tied back.
There were shadows beneath her eyes.
A bruise darkened one wrist.
Dante met her in the front hall.
Luca stood behind him.
Clare remained near the kitchen archway.
Serafina saw her.
For once, there was no contempt.
Only fear.
"My father has Marco."
Dante's face remained still.
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because Marco has convinced him to finish this."
"Finish what?"
"You."
Luca stepped forward.
"Details."
Serafina took a breath.
"There is a meeting tonight at the old St. Jude freight depot."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"That property belongs to Moretti."
"I know."
"Why should I believe you?"
She laughed.
It sounded broken.
"You shouldn't."
She looked at Clare.
"But I know what my father becomes when he thinks someone has humiliated him."
Her gaze returned to Dante.
"I also know Marco promised him control of your river routes after you're dead."
Dante studied her.
"What do you want?"
Serafina's expression changed.
"For this to end."
"You planted evidence on an innocent woman."
"I know."
"You're not asking forgiveness."
"No."
She looked toward Clare again.
"I don't deserve it."
Clare said nothing.
Serafina swallowed.
"My father hit me last night because I told him Marco couldn't be trusted."
The bruise on her wrist suddenly made sense.
"He said I had embarrassed the family."
Her mouth twisted.
"Apparently humiliation runs differently when you're the daughter."
No one spoke.
Then Rosie walked into the foyer.
Serafina stared at her.
Rosie stopped.
Clare moved quickly.
"Come here, baby."
Rosie came to her.
Serafina's eyes filled with shame.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Rosie looked confused.
Serafina stepped closer, but stopped several feet away.
"What I said to you was wrong."
Rosie looked at Clare.
Clare gave a tiny nod.
Rosie turned back.
"Okay."
Serafina blinked.
Children's forgiveness could be cruel in its simplicity.
Rosie added, "You were mean."
Serafina almost smiled.
"Yes."
"You shouldn't be mean."
"No."
Rosie hugged her rabbit.
"Okay."
Then she walked into the kitchen.
Serafina watched her go.
"I spent my entire life thinking kindness made people weak."
Clare finally spoke.
"Sometimes people teach us the wrong things because those things benefit them."
Serafina looked at her.
"I'm sorry."
Clare's jaw tightened.
"I believe you."
Serafina inhaled.
"Do you forgive me?"
"No."
The answer was calm.
Serafina looked surprised.
Clare continued.
"Maybe someday."
Serafina nodded.
Strangely, she seemed relieved.
Dante turned to Luca.
"Prepare the cars."
Clare's head snapped around.
"You're going?"
"Yes."
"To an obvious trap?"
"Especially to an obvious trap."
"Dante."
He looked at her.
Clare walked toward him.
"Don't."
"I have to end this."
"Then call the police."
A faint expression crossed Luca's face.
Dante almost smiled.
"That creates complications."
"You're a walking complication."
This time Luca did smile.
Dante ignored him.
"Clare—"
"No."
She stepped closer.
"You don't get to rescue everyone by walking into bullets."
"It's not everyone."
His voice dropped.
"It's you."
The room changed.
Luca looked away.
Serafina did too.
Clare's breath stopped.
Dante seemed to realize what he had said.
But he did not take it back.
"And Rosie," he added.
Clare's eyes burned.
"Then come back."
Dante looked at her.
"That's the plan."
"No."
She touched his sleeve.
"Promise me."
Dante stared at her hand.
Then lifted his gaze.
"I promise."
The St. Jude freight depot had been abandoned for fourteen years.
Rain struck the broken roof.
Old tracks disappeared into weeds.
Dante entered with six men.
Luca at his right.
Marco stood beneath a hanging industrial light.
Vittorio Moretti stood beside him.
Twenty armed men surrounded them.
Dante looked around.
"Subtle."
Marco smiled.
"My nephew."
"Uncle."
Vittorio's face remained hard.
"You broke your word."
Dante looked at him.
"I broke an engagement."
"You humiliated my daughter."
"Your daughter is safer in my house than she ever was in yours."
Vittorio's face changed.
That was enough.
Marco looked toward him.
"Serafina went to Dante."
Dante continued before Vittorio could respond.
"She told me everything."
Marco stepped back.
Vittorio turned.
"You said she was under guard."
"She was."
"Not very good guards."
Dante's voice carried through the warehouse.
Marco's face tightened.
The alliance had begun to fracture.
Exactly as Dante intended.
"What did you promise him?" Dante asked Vittorio.
"Territory? Money?"
"Don't listen," Marco said.
Dante laughed softly.
"Marco has never shared power in his life."
He looked at Vittorio.
"Ask my father."
Marco's face went pale.
Dante saw it.
So did Luca.
"You killed him," Dante said.
Silence.
Marco's jaw tightened.
"What?"
"You killed my father."
Vittorio slowly turned toward him.
Marco laughed.
"You've lost your mind."
Dante removed a small recorder from his pocket.
"Carter talked."
Marco's eyes widened.
"Before you ask, yes. He survived."
Dante pressed play.
Carter's recorded voice filled the warehouse.
Marco's name.
Payments.
The attack.
And then—
A confession.
Marco had arranged the ambush that killed Dante's father fifteen years earlier.
The warehouse went still.
Dante turned the recorder off.
Marco reached for his gun.
Vittorio stepped away from him.
That decision saved Dante's life.
Gunfire erupted.
Luca pulled Dante behind a steel pillar.
Men scattered.
Shots struck metal.
Dante returned fire.
Marco ran toward the rear exit.
Dante followed.
They reached the loading platform.
Rain poured through the broken roof.
Marco turned.
Gun raised.
Dante raised his own.
For one second, uncle and nephew stood across from each other.
"You were never meant to lead," Marco said.
Dante stared at him.
"You were a grieving boy."
"I was."
"I made you."
"No."
Dante's voice was quiet.
"You made me afraid to be human."
Marco smiled.
"Same thing."
He fired.
Dante moved.
Pain tore through his side.
He hit the ground.
Marco approached.
Dante's gun lay several feet away.
Marco aimed.
Then a shot sounded.
Marco staggered.
Another shot.
He fell.
Luca stood behind him.
Breathing hard.
"Dante!"
Clare heard the cars before she saw them.
She was standing in the foyer.
Rosie asleep upstairs.
Serafina seated silently near the window.
The front doors opened.
Luca entered first.
Blood covered his shirt.
Clare's heart stopped.
Then two men carried Dante inside.
"No."
She ran.
His eyes were closed.
Blood soaked the side of his shirt.
"Is he alive?"
"Yes."
Luca grabbed her shoulders.
"Clare. Listen. The doctor is coming."
"Dante."
She reached him.
His eyes opened.
Barely.
He looked at her.
"You packed?"
A sob escaped her.
"You idiot."
His mouth moved.
Maybe a smile.
"I promised."
"You don't get credit for keeping half a promise."
Dante's eyes closed.
Clare grabbed his hand.
"Don't."
His fingers tightened weakly around hers.
"Rosie?"
"Safe."
He exhaled.
"Good."
Luca looked at the men.
"Upstairs. Now."
They carried him away.
Clare stood in the hall with blood on her hands.
Serafina came beside her.
"He'll live."
Clare looked at her.
"You don't know that."
"No."
Serafina's eyes went to the staircase.
"But men like Dante are stubborn."
Clare laughed through tears.
"That's the first true thing you've ever said to me."
Dante survived surgery.
The bullet had passed through his side without hitting anything vital.
By morning, he was awake.
By noon, he was arguing with the doctor.
By one, Rosie had escaped Mrs. Walsh and climbed onto his bed.
Dante woke to find a stuffed rabbit resting on his chest.
Rosie sat beside him.
"Mama says you got shot."
"Your mother talks too much."
Rosie frowned.
"She cried."
Dante became still.
"Did she?"
"Yes."
Rosie leaned closer.
"That means she loves you."
Dante stared at the ceiling.
Children were terrifying.
The bedroom door opened.
Clare entered.
"Rosie."
Rosie smiled.
"I told him."
Clare froze.
"Told him what?"
"That you love him."
Silence.
Rosie jumped off the bed.
"I'm hungry."
She walked out.
Clare closed her eyes.
Dante looked at her.
"She's very direct."
"She gets that from her father."
Dante's expression softened.
Clare walked to the bed.
"How do you feel?"
"Like I've been shot."
"Good. Maybe it'll teach you something."
He almost smiled.
Then his face became serious.
"Marco is dead."
Clare nodded.
"Vittorio withdrew his men. Serafina is leaving for Chicago."
"And this ends it?"
"This part."
Clare looked at him.
"What comes next?"
Dante reached for her hand.
Slowly.
Giving her time to pull away.
She didn't.
"I don't know."
His thumb moved against her fingers.
"But I know what I don't want."
"What?"
"To keep living in a house where every room is built around fear."
Clare's throat tightened.
"Dante."
He looked at her.
"I meant what I said."
"At the mansion?"
"At the depot."
"You were talking about protecting us."
"No."
His hand tightened.
"I was talking about you."
Clare could hear her heartbeat.
Dante spoke quietly.
"You matter to me."
She looked down.
"This is complicated."
"I know."
"You are complicated."
"I've been told."
"I have a child."
"I noticed."
Despite herself, she smiled.
Then looked at him again.
"I can't give Rosie another person to lose."
The smile disappeared from his face.
Dante lifted her hand.
Pressed it lightly against his chest.
His heartbeat was steady beneath her palm.
May you like
"Then I suppose I'll have to stay."
And for the first time since Ethan died, Clare allowed herself to believe that loving someone again did not have to mean betraying the person she had loved before.
