Chapter 7 - The Whispering Ghost in the Garden
The morning before the gala was suffocatingly quiet.
Snow fell in thick, silent blankets over the manicured grounds of the estate. While Dante met with his capos in the war room in the basement, I decided to take Matteo for a stroll in the heated glass conservatory at the back of the property.
The conservatory was an oasis of vibrant tropical plants, blooming orchids, and stone fountains, shielded from the freezing winter outside by thick, reinforced glass.
Matteo clapped his hands in delight as he watched a bright orange koi fish swim beneath a small wooden bridge.
"Fishy!" he squeaked, pointing his little finger into the water.
"Yes, Matteo, that’s a fishy," I laughed softly, kissing his temple.
As I stood up to adjust his stroller, a flash of white paper caught my eye. Tucked inside the hollow of a massive terracotta planter near the exit was a folded envelope sealed with red wax.
My heart skipped a beat.
Looking around to ensure the guards stationed outside the glass doors weren't watching, I stepped over and plucked the envelope from the planter.
On the front, written in elegant cursive script, was my name: For Elina.
With trembling fingers, I broke the wax seal and unfolded the heavy parchment.
“Elina,
If you are reading this, Dante has brought you to the gilded cage where my soul was broken. Do not trust his promises of protection. Dante is a man who collects beautiful things and locks them away until they wither.
Vincent is not the only traitor in the house. Look closer at the sister. Gianna was the one who handed over my safehouse coordinates to the Russians nine months ago. She wanted me dead so she could control the family fortune through her unborn children.
If you want to survive the Drake Hotel tonight, do not drink the champagne during the midnight toast. Run while you still can.
—A Friend Who Knows the Truth.”
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
Was this note left by someone trying to protect me, or was it a calculated psychological ploy designed to sow paranoia and tear Dante’s family apart from within?
"Elina?"
I gasped, quickly shoving the note into my coat pocket as Dante stepped through the conservatory doors. He was dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, his dark hair immaculate, though dark circles shadowed his eyes from a sleepless night of planning.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, his sharp gaze instantly noticing my elevated pulse and pale complexion.
"I’m fine," I lied smoothly, forcing a warm smile onto my face as I lifted Matteo into my arms. "Just... nervous about tonight."
Dante closed the distance between us, wrapping one strong arm around my waist and pulling both Matteo and me against his chest. He pressed a warm, lingering kiss against the side of my neck.
"You have nothing to fear, mia bella," Dante murmured against my skin. "The Drake Hotel will be surrounded by three hundred of my best men. You are the safest woman on this planet."
May you like
I leaned against his broad shoulder, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart against my cheek.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust him with everything I had. But as I felt the crisp edge of the anonymous letter burning against my ribs, I knew that tonight was going to be a bloodbath.
