Chapter 3 - The Man Behind the Dragon
Dante returned to the SUV less than four minutes later.
Lena would remember those four minutes for the rest of her life.
The gunfire.
The screams.
The heavy thud of boots outside the armored vehicle.
Leo crying against her chest.
And Lena wondering whether she had made the worst mistake of her life by getting into Dante Rosselli’s car.
Then the rear door opened.
Dante climbed inside.
Rain covered his hair and shoulders.
His white shirt was streaked with mud near the collar.
A thin line of blood ran across his knuckles.
Lena stared at it.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then whose blood is that?”
Dante looked at his hand.
“Not mine.”
Her stomach tightened.
Dante noticed.
He wiped his knuckles with a handkerchief and sat opposite her.
“You asked what the Brotherhood became.”
Lena held Leo closer.
“I’m not sure I want to know anymore.”
“You need to.”
Outside, Dante’s men secured the road.
One attacker had been captured alive.
Two had escaped.
The others would never threaten anyone again.
Dante looked at Lena.
“The Brotherhood started as protection.”
“For criminals?”
“For immigrant businesses.”
She frowned.
“My grandfather arrived in this country with nothing.”
Dante’s voice was quiet.
“In the early days, families like ours paid police who never protected us, politicians who despised us, and gangs who stole from us.”
“So your father created his own gang.”
“My father called it a family.”
“And you?”
“I learned that families can become monsters.”
Lena looked toward the dragon tattoo.
“And the symbol?”
“Five founding families.”
“Rosselli?”
“Yes.”
“The others?”
“Bellandi. Marchetti. Costa. Valenti.”
Lena repeated the names silently.
One of them felt familiar.
“Valenti.”
Dante noticed.
“You know it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“My mother used to say that name when she was angry.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“In what context?”
“I was a child.”
“Try.”
Lena closed her eyes.
A kitchen.
Her mother washing dishes.
Rain on the windows.
A name muttered like a curse.
“Victor.”
Dante went completely still.
“Victor Valenti?”
Lena opened her eyes.
“Yes.”
Dante looked toward Matteo, who had climbed into the front passenger seat.
Matteo turned.
“That’s impossible.”
Lena’s voice sharpened.
“Who is Victor Valenti?”
Dante answered.
“The man who ordered my brother’s murder.”
Silence.
Leo stopped crying.
Lena looked down at him.
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel tried to expose the Brotherhood.”
The SUV began moving again.
Dante leaned back.
“My brother believed our fathers had crossed a line.”
“What line?”
“Human trafficking.”
Lena stared at him.
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“It wasn’t supposed to exist inside our territories.”
“But it did.”
“Yes.”
“And your family knew?”
“My father discovered it later.”
“Did he stop it?”
“He tried.”
“That sounds convenient.”
Dante’s eyes met hers.
“It does.”
She was surprised by the answer.
Most powerful men defended themselves.
Dante did not.
He simply accepted the accusation.
“Gabriel and Elena found records,” Dante continued.
“Financial records?”
“Names. Routes. Payments. Police contacts. Judges.”
Lena’s stomach turned.
“Your brother and my mother?”
“Yes.”
“They were working together?”
“They planned to expose it.”
“What happened?”
“Gabriel was killed before they could.”
“And my mother?”
“Disappeared.”
Lena shook her head.
“She didn’t disappear. She raised me.”
“From me she disappeared.”
“Maybe she was afraid of you.”
“She should have been.”
Again, no defense.
Lena stared at him.
“Did you kill anyone looking for her?”
“Yes.”
The bluntness chilled her.
“How many?”
Dante looked out the window.
“Enough.”
Lena shifted away from him.
Leo reached toward Dante.
He immediately softened and took his son.
That transformation disturbed Lena more than the violence.
Dante could speak about killing men without hesitation.
Then hold his baby like the most careful father in the world.
“How did Gabriel die?” she asked.
Dante’s eyes lowered.
“Warehouse fire.”
Lena’s breath stopped.
“My mother was terrified of fire.”
“She survived it.”
“You were there?”
Dante nodded.
“I pulled her out.”
The SUV passed through iron gates.
A sprawling estate appeared beyond rain-soaked trees.
Stone walls.
Tall windows.
Security lights.
Guards.
It looked less like a home and more like a fortress.
Dante continued.
“Gabriel didn’t.”
Lena whispered, “Did my mother see him die?”
“Yes.”
Pain moved across Dante’s face.
Real pain.
Old pain.
“She was pregnant.”
Lena stared at him.
“What?”
Dante looked at her.
“Elena was pregnant when Gabriel died.”
Lena stopped breathing.
The timing struck her with brutal clarity.
Twenty-seven years.
Her age.
Gabriel’s death.
Her mother.
“No.”
Dante said nothing.
Lena stood too quickly as the SUV stopped.
Her head struck the ceiling handle.
“No.”
“Lena.”
“No.”
She pushed open the door.
Matteo caught it.
“Ma’am—”
“Get away from me!”
Dante stepped out holding Leo.
Rain hit his shoulders.
Lena backed across the driveway.
“My father’s name was Miguel Valdez.”
“Was he?”
“Yes!”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“He died before I was born.”
“Did you ever see a photograph?”
Lena opened her mouth.
No words came.
Her mother had never shown her one.
Not once.
Every question Lena asked had produced the same answer.
It hurts too much.
Dante approached slowly.
“I don’t know the truth.”
“You just implied—”
“I told you what I know.”
“My mother would have told me.”
“Would she?”
Lena stopped.
Dante’s voice softened.
“She hid me from you.”
“For a reason.”
“Yes.”
“She hid Gabriel too.”
Lena’s eyes filled.
“She said my father was Miguel.”
“Maybe Miguel existed.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I believe Elena did whatever she thought would keep you alive.”
Lightning flashed behind the mansion.
Lena looked toward the dragon tattoo.
“If Gabriel Rosselli was my father…”
Dante waited.
“That would make you…”
“Your uncle.”
Leo reached toward Lena again.
Dante looked at his son.
“And Leo your cousin.”
Lena covered her mouth.
The ground seemed to shift beneath her.
Dante turned toward Matteo.
“Get a DNA test.”
Lena immediately snapped back.
“No.”
Dante faced her.
“You want the truth.”
“Not like this.”
“How?”
“I need proof that doesn’t come from you.”
Dante considered that.
Then nodded.
“Fair.”
Matteo approached with the black box.
“There’s something else.”
He held up the brass key.
“Security found engraving along the edge.”
Dante examined it.
Three numbers.
“317.”
Lena stared at them.
Her heart began hammering.
Dante noticed.
“What?”
Lena whispered, “My mother’s storage unit.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“She had one?”
“After she died, I found a bill in her papers.”
“Number?”
Lena swallowed.
“317.”
Dante looked toward the rain-dark driveway.
“Where?”
“Jersey City.”
Matteo was already reaching for his phone.
Then Lena added the sentence that made everyone stop.
“I never opened it.”
“Why?”
“Because someone had already paid the rent.”
“For twelve years.”
Dante slowly turned toward her.
“Who?”
Lena shook her head.
May you like
“I never found out.”
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