Chapter 3 - The Brother Who Vanished
I pulled my hand away.
"What did you just say?"
Dante watched me from the hospital bed.
His expression was guarded, but there was something else in his eyes.
Regret.
"Six months ago, your brother came to me with information about Adrian Bell."
I stood.
"No."
"Cara—"
"No, you don't get to say that and then look at me like you feel sorry for me."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Sit down."
"Tell me where he is."
"You're making yourself a target."
"I was already a target before I walked into this room."
He didn't argue.
I stepped closer.
"My brother disappeared six months ago."
My voice trembled.
"I filed a missing-person report."
"I went to hospitals."
"I called every friend he had."
"I spent nights driving around the city because I thought maybe I'd see him sleeping in his car."
Dante looked away.
I leaned over the bed.
"And you knew something?"
He exhaled slowly.
"Yes."
I wanted to hit him.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I whispered, "Why didn't you tell the police?"
His gaze returned to mine.
"Because I believed doing so would get him killed."
The words stopped me.
For several seconds, the only sound was the monitor beside his bed.
Then I sat.
"Start talking."
Daniel had been hired by a financial consulting firm fourteen months earlier.
His official job was computer systems support.
According to Dante, the firm handled outside contracts for Moretti Holdings, a collection of restaurants, transportation companies, real estate businesses, and shipping services.
Daniel discovered irregular transfers hidden inside routine financial records.
At first, he thought the problem was accounting fraud.
Then he found suspicious accounts connected to people who had died years earlier.
Some of the money passed through businesses owned by Adrian Bell.
Other payments moved through charities supported by Vanessa Moretti.
Daniel knew enough to understand that he had discovered something dangerous.
He tried reporting it through the company's internal compliance system.
The report vanished.
Three days later, someone broke into his apartment.
Nothing was stolen.
But his laptop had been moved.
And someone had left a photograph of me on his kitchen table.
Dante paused.
I couldn't stop staring at him.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"He was trying to protect you."
"That was his favorite excuse."
My voice cracked.
"He always thought he could fix everything himself."
Dante's expression softened.
"He came to see me because he didn't trust anyone else in my company."
"How did he get an appointment with you?"
"He didn't."
Dante paused.
"He waited outside my office for six hours."
I almost smiled.
That sounded like Daniel.
He'd been stubborn since the day he learned to walk.
"What happened?"
"He gave me copies of financial records."
"Did you believe him?"
"Not immediately."
I felt anger rising again.
"He risked his life to tell you something."
"And I listened."
Dante's voice sharpened.
"I assigned someone to investigate."
"Who?"
He was silent.
My heart sank.
"Adrian?"
"No."
"Then who?"
"One of my security officers."
"Where is he now?"
Dante looked toward the window.
"Dead."
A cold wave passed through me.
"He was killed?"
"Two days after meeting your brother."
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
Dante continued.
"Daniel contacted me again."
"He said someone was following him."
"I told him to come to a safe location."
"Did he?"
Dante's jaw tightened.
"No."
"What happened?"
"He disappeared."
I stared at him.
"Then why did you say he was covered in blood?"
Dante's expression changed.
"I saw him the night he vanished."
My heart thudded.
"Where?"
"At an abandoned warehouse near the harbor."
I leaned forward.
"Was he injured?"
"Yes."
"How badly?"
"He'd been beaten."
Tears blurred my vision.
Dante continued carefully.
"He was conscious."
"He told me he'd found the person controlling the stolen money."
"Who?"
"He wouldn't say."
"Why not?"
"He believed I was being watched."
I wiped my face.
"Then what happened?"
"He gave me a flash drive."
"Where is it?"
"Missing."
"How?"
"Someone attacked us before we could leave."
My blood turned cold.
Dante looked at me.
"Three armed men."
"Daniel ran."
"I tried to follow him."
"But one of my men went down, and I had to get him out."
I stared.
"You let my brother run away alone?"
Dante's face hardened.
"I made a decision in the middle of a gunfight."
"And my brother disappeared."
"Yes."
His honesty hurt worse than an excuse.
I looked down at my hands.
The cuts from the crash had been cleaned and bandaged.
They still hurt.
But nothing compared to what was happening inside my chest.
"Do you think he's dead?"
Dante was silent for a long time.
Then he said, "I don't know."
It wasn't the answer I wanted.
It was the answer I believed.
At dawn, I tried calling Daniel's old number.
For six months, it had gone straight to a recorded message.
This time, it rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
My heart climbed into my throat.
Then someone answered.
"Hello?"
I almost dropped the phone.
"Daniel?"
No response.
"Daniel, it's Cara."
A quiet breath came through the speaker.
Then a man's voice whispered, "You should not have answered that question."
I froze.
"What?"
"Moretti asked you about your brother."
I looked toward the hospital bed.
Dante was asleep.
"Who is this?"
"He's listening."
My stomach twisted.
"Who?"
"Everyone."
I stood and walked toward the bathroom.
The man spoke again.
"Did Daniel ever tell you about the key?"
My blood went cold.
I closed the bathroom door.
"What key?"
"Don't play games."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The man sighed.
"Your brother made a mistake."
"He trusted the wrong people."
My hands began shaking.
"Is he alive?"
The silence stretched.
"Please."
I pressed the phone against my ear.
"Just tell me if he's alive."
The man lowered his voice.
"That depends on what you do next."
My knees weakened.
"What do you want?"
"Go to your apartment."
"Get the key."
"Wait for instructions."
I closed my eyes.
"And if I don't?"
The voice turned cold.
"Then your brother won't survive another day."
The call ended.
I stood in the bathroom staring at my phone.
Then I turned and saw my reflection in the mirror.
Twenty-seven years old.
Exhausted.
Bruised.
Terrified.
Yesterday, my biggest problem had been overdue rent.
Now a stranger was threatening to murder my brother.
And the only person who might know how to save him was lying in the next room recovering from an assassination attempt.
I opened the bathroom door.
Dante's eyes were already on me.
"Who called?"
I froze.
"Nobody."
He watched me.
"You're lying."
I stared at him.
"And you aren't?"
He didn't answer.
I took a step closer.
"How much do you really know about my brother?"
Dante's face became unreadable.
"Enough to know you should stay away from your apartment."
My blood ran cold.
"Why?"
He reached for the call button.
"Marco."
The door opened almost immediately.
Dante looked directly at him.
"Send someone to Cara's building."
Marco stiffened.
"What happened?"
Dante's voice was dangerously calm.
"Someone just called her."
I stared at him.
"How did you know?"
He didn't answer.
Marco pulled out his phone.
Then the room telephone rang.
He picked it up.
Listened.
And turned pale.
Dante saw his expression.
"Talk."
Marco looked at me.
Then at his boss.
"There's been a fire."
My breath stopped.
"Where?"
Marco swallowed.
"Cara's apartment building."
I grabbed the edge of the bed.
"Was anyone hurt?"
Marco's eyes filled with something I had never expected to see in a man like him.
Fear.
"The firefighters found someone inside your apartment."
I couldn't speak.
Marco continued.
"A young man."
My heart broke open.
May you like
Then he said the words that made the world disappear beneath my feet.
"He was holding a photograph of you."
