Chapter 8 - The Friend Who Watched Her Sleep
Lena stared at Erin through the glass wall of Dante’s security room.
Her roommate sat at a metal table.
Twenty-eight.
Red hair tied messily behind her head.
Mascara streaked from crying.
She looked terrified.
Lena had lived with Erin for four years.
They split groceries.
Shared clothes.
Watched bad reality television on Sunday nights.
Erin knew which songs Lena hated.
Which coffee she ordered.
Which drawer held her passport.
Which box contained her mother’s letters.
And apparently, Erin had been paid to watch her.
Lena entered the room alone.
Dante wanted to accompany her.
She refused.
This betrayal belonged to her.
Erin stood.
“Lena.”
“Sit.”
Erin obeyed.
Lena remained standing.
“How much?”
Erin looked down.
“How much did he pay you?”
“Lena—”
“How much?”
“Five hundred a month.”
The answer somehow made it worse.
Six thousand dollars a year.
That was the price of their friendship.
“What did you tell him?”
“At first? Nothing important.”
“Define important.”
“Where you worked. Whether you were dating anyone. If you planned to move.”
Lena laughed bitterly.
“You gave a stranger my life.”
“He wasn’t a stranger.”
“Who did you think he was?”
“He said he worked for an investigator hired by your father’s family.”
“My father was dead.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You never asked?”
Erin started crying.
“I needed the money.”
“So did I.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Lena leaned over the table.
“You don’t.”
Her voice broke.
“I worked sixty-hour weeks while you watched me come home exhausted, and you were making money selling information about me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What changed three years ago?”
Erin went still.
Lena noticed.
“What?”
“Paul started asking strange questions.”
“What questions?”
“About your mother.”
“Like what?”
“Whether she left jewelry. Old papers. A diary.”
“The music box?”
“Yes.”
Lena’s stomach dropped.
“You told him about it?”
“I told him you had one.”
“Did he ever come into our apartment?”
Erin started crying harder.
Lena stepped back.
“How many times?”
“Twice.”
Lena closed her eyes.
“What did he do?”
“He searched while you were working.”
“Did he find anything?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He threatened my brother.”
Silence.
Lena looked at her.
Erin whispered, “He showed me photographs of Kevin leaving work.”
Lena’s anger shifted slightly.
Not gone.
But complicated.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“And you kept working for him?”
“I was scared.”
“You could have told me.”
“I didn’t know who you really were.”
Lena flinched.
Erin immediately regretted it.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No.”
Lena nodded slowly.
“That is exactly what you meant.”
She moved toward the door.
“Wait.”
Lena stopped.
Erin reached into her jacket.
The security men outside tensed.
She placed a small flash drive on the table.
“I stole this from Paul.”
Lena turned.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why steal it?”
“Because he told me to disappear.”
Erin swallowed.
“And because I heard him say your name on the phone.”
Lena picked up the drive.
“What did he say?”
Erin looked toward the glass.
“He said Victor had been wrong.”
“About what?”
“He said you didn’t have page eighty-eight anymore.”
Lena’s breathing slowed.
“And?”
Erin whispered, “He said Dante does.”
Lena went still.
She left the room and found Dante waiting outside.
She handed him the drive.
Matteo inserted it into an isolated computer.
Encrypted folders appeared.
Financial records.
Photographs.
Audio files.
Then a video.
Dated eleven months earlier.
Dante clicked play.
Paul Rainer sat inside a private office.
Across from him stood Victor Valenti.
The audio was clear.
Victor said, “The girl doesn’t matter until Rosselli finds her.”
Paul answered, “He won’t.”
“You said that about Elena.”
“Elena was different.”
“How?”
“She knew Dante would protect the child.”
Victor laughed.
“Then why didn’t she contact him?”
Paul leaned closer.
“Because I convinced her Dante ordered Gabriel’s death.”
Dante froze.
Lena’s eyes widened.
The recording continued.
Victor smiled.
“And she believed you?”
“For twelve years.”
Lena covered her mouth.
Paul continued.
“Until she discovered the truth.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“That was unfortunate.”
“You handled it.”
“I always do.”
Lena turned away from the screen.
Her mother’s car accident.
Victor.
Paul.
A conspiracy.
Dante paused the video.
His hands trembled.
Paul had not merely betrayed Gabriel.
He had ensured Elena never trusted Dante afterward.
Twenty-seven years of separation had been engineered.
Matteo whispered, “There’s more.”
Another file.
Dated three months earlier.
Paul’s voice.
No video.
“Victor, Dante has started asking about Gabriel again.”
Victor answered, “Why?”
“The baby.”
“What about him?”
“Leo’s mother found something before she died.”
Dante stopped.
Every part of him became still.
Lena looked at him.
Leo’s mother.
Sofia.
Dante’s late wife.
Victor continued.
“What did Sofia find?”
Paul replied:
“Elena Valdez’s name.”
Dante’s face emptied.
Lena whispered, “Your wife knew about my mother?”
Dante said nothing.
The recording continued.
Victor:
“Did Sofia tell Dante?”
Paul:
“No. I made sure she never got the chance.”
Dante stood so suddenly the chair crashed backward.
Lena stared.
“Sofia didn’t die from complications after childbirth.”
Dante’s voice barely existed.
Matteo looked sick.
Dante had believed Sofia died from a pulmonary embolism three months after Leo’s birth.
A sudden medical tragedy.
Unpreventable.
Victor’s voice continued through the speakers.
“You’re certain the hospital report is clean?”
Paul answered.
“Completely.”
Dante turned off the audio.
Silence.
Then he punched the wall.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Blood appeared across his knuckles.
“Dante.”
Lena moved toward him.
“Don’t.”
He pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.”
His voice shattered.
Lena stopped.
For the first time, she saw him completely unguarded.
Not the mafia boss.
Not the dragon.
A widower discovering that the woman he loved had been murdered.
Dante whispered, “She called me.”
Lena said nothing.
“The night she died.”
His eyes went distant.
“I was in Boston.”
He swallowed.
“She called three times.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I was in a meeting.”
The words nearly broke him.
“She left a message telling me to come home.”
Lena’s eyes filled.
“I thought she was scared because she felt sick.”
Dante covered his face.
“She was trying to warn me.”
Lena stepped closer.
This time, when she placed her hand on his arm, he did not move away.
“She wanted Leo protected.”
Dante looked at her.
Lena whispered, “And he is.”
A sound came from the doorway.
Rosa stood there holding Leo.
The baby saw Dante.
He smiled.
“Da.”
Dante’s face collapsed.
He crossed the room and took his son.
Leo grabbed his beard.
Dante held him against his chest and closed his eyes.
Lena watched.
Then she understood why Leo had reached for her in the restaurant.
Maybe not blood.
Maybe not magic.
Maybe babies simply recognized safety.
And somehow, despite everything surrounding him, Leo had found it in Lena.
Matteo’s computer chimed.
One final hidden document had decrypted.
A flight plan.
Paul’s destination.
Chicago.
Dante looked up.
Matteo said, “He’s going to the old Rosselli warehouse.”
May you like
The same warehouse where Gabriel had died.
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