Chapter 6 - THE MOTHER WHO REFUSED TO DIEDante reached Isabella before she hit the ground.
Blood covered his hands.
For one terrible moment he was twenty years old again, standing beside a hospital bed and believing his mother was leaving him.
“Stay with me.”
Isabella’s eyes opened.
“Bossy.”
Her voice was weak.
Dante nearly laughed and cried at the same time.
Vivienne arrived seconds later.
“Move.”
Dante did.
He trusted her now.
Without hesitation.
Vivienne cut open the coat.
“The bullet went through the shoulder.”
“Is she dying?”
“No.”
Vivienne looked at him.
“Not if you stop asking questions and let me work.”
Isabella managed a faint smile.
“I like her.”
Dante stared.
“This is not the time.”
“Then marry her quickly.”
Vivienne almost smiled.
Outside, Sal’s vehicle disappeared through a secondary exit.
Dante wanted to chase him.
Every instinct screamed at him to hunt the man down.
Then Isabella groaned.
He stayed.
That decision mattered.
Later, Isabella would tell him it was the moment she knew the son she left behind had become a better man than the father who raised him.
They took her to the same private hospital as Leo.
For hours, Dante sat outside surgery.
Everett stood nearby.
Vivienne joined them after Isabella was stabilized.
“She’ll recover.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“Thank you.”
Everett studied him.
“You stayed.”
Dante looked at him.
“What?”
“You let Sal escape.”
“My mother was bleeding.”
“Antonio wouldn’t have stayed.”
Dante’s gaze sharpened.
“I’m not my father.”
Everett nodded slowly.
“No.”
For once, it sounded like praise.
Isabella woke the following morning.
Dante entered alone.
She looked older than he remembered.
Of course she did.
Twelve years had happened.
He sat beside her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Dante asked, “Why?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“I thought leaving would protect you.”
“It didn’t.”
“I know.”
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You let Marco believe you were gone.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Marco found me three years ago.”
Dante absorbed the betrayal.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone knew except me.”
“No.”
Isabella reached toward him.
He did not take her hand.
“Marco discovered my safe house by accident. He was investigating your father’s old accounts.”
“My father knew you were alive?”
“Yes.”
“Until he died?”
“Yes.”
Dante stood.
“Was his death real?”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“Yes. Antonio was many things. Immortal was not one of them.”
Dante turned away.
“Why did he help fake your death?”
“Because he loved me.”
Dante looked back.
“That doesn’t sound like love.”
“No.”
Isabella’s eyes became distant.
“It was the only kind he understood.”
She explained.
Years earlier, she had discovered that Moretti enemies were bribing hospital staff, drivers and bodyguards.
Two poisoning attempts followed.
Antonio decided the only protection he trusted was disappearance.
Isabella agreed because she intended to take Marco and Dante with her.
Antonio refused.
“He said the organization needed heirs.”
Dante laughed bitterly.
“So he saved you and kept us in the fire.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you come back after he died?”
“Because by then I had learned the attacks weren’t coming from outside.”
“Sal.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Not then.”
Dante frowned.
“Who?”
“Sal’s father.”
Dante stared.
Isabella continued.
“Edmund Mercer believed the Moretti family had stolen his family’s routes thirty years earlier. Sal inherited the resentment.”
The betrayal went back generations.
“How long has Sal been planning this?”
“Longer than you’ve been boss.”
Dante felt sick.
“Marco discovered it.”
“Yes.”
“He told you?”
“He came to me after Elena began receiving threats.”
“Why didn’t either of you tell me?”
Isabella’s eyes filled.
“Because Sal had spent years making himself indispensable to you.”
“He was.”
“That was the problem.”
Dante sat again.
“Where is Marco?”
Isabella hesitated.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“I promised him.”
“I’m his brother.”
“And I am his mother.”
Her voice strengthened.
“He believes anyone who knows his location becomes a target.”
Dante stared at her.
“You came back because of Leo.”
“Yes.”
“And Vivienne?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Isabella looked toward the door.
“Because she was never supposed to marry you.”
Dante frowned.
“What?”
“The original Cross-Moretti agreement named someone else.”
“Who?”
“Marco.”
The room went silent.
Dante stood slowly.
“My married brother was supposed to marry Vivienne?”
“Not romantically. Symbolically. The agreement began before Marco married Elena.”
Isabella took a breath.
“Then Elena became pregnant. Marco refused.”
Dante felt his head pounding.
“So they chose me.”
“No.”
Isabella’s gaze sharpened.
“Everett chose you.”
“Why?”
“You should ask him.”
Dante walked straight into the corridor.
Everett was standing beside a window.
“You chose me.”
Everett turned.
“For what?”
“Vivienne.”
Everett’s expression said enough.
Dante stepped closer.
“Why?”
Everett glanced toward his daughter.
Vivienne had just entered from the elevators.
She heard the question.
Her father sighed.
“Because you were the only Moretti son I thought might let her remain herself.”
Vivienne stared.
Dante looked almost insulted.
“That is your reason?”
“Marco was loyal to family tradition.”
Everett crossed his arms.
“You are loyal to results.”
“And?”
“You don’t care whether the person getting results is a man or woman, doctor or criminal, Cross or Moretti.”
Dante looked at Vivienne.
Everett continued.
“My daughter lost her career because powerful men wanted silence. I wasn’t going to marry her to another man who demanded it.”
Vivienne’s eyes filled with anger.
“You destroyed my career.”
Everett’s face tightened.
“I failed to protect it.”
“You had the board chairman on your payroll.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
“No.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“Because the doctor you accused was laundering money for three federal investigators watching my organization.”
Vivienne went still.
“If I attacked him publicly, I exposed you to people who would have used you against me.”
“So you sacrificed me.”
“Yes.”
The word hung painfully.
Everett looked at his daughter.
“I told myself I was saving your life.”
Vivienne’s voice became cold.
“You men love that sentence.”
Dante knew exactly what she meant.
Isabella.
Marco.
Everett.
Everyone claiming secrecy was protection.
Everyone leaving the protected person powerless.
Dante said, “No more.”
They looked at him.
“No more decisions made for people without telling them what they’re risking.”
Everett frowned.
“Dante—”
“No.”
Dante looked at Vivienne.
“If you want to leave this alliance, leave.”
She studied him.
“You mean the engagement?”
“Yes.”
“And if I leave?”
“I still protect you from Sal.”
“Why?”
Dante’s answer came easily.
“Because it is right.”
Vivienne’s expression softened.
Before she could respond, Vincent hurried toward them.
“We found Sal.”
Dante turned.
“Where?”
“He used an old freight authorization.”
Vincent held out a tablet.
“A train departed a private Moretti yard forty minutes ago.”
“Destination?”
“Milwaukee.”
“Cargo?”
Vincent hesitated.
“One passenger registered under a false name.”
“Who?”
The photograph appeared.
A woman.
Thin.
Bruised.
Alive.
May you like
Elena Moretti.
Leo’s mother.
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