2 | **The Elevator Doors Opened**
Dante had survived long enough to understand one rule better than most men.
Panic killed faster than bullets.
The elevator chimed again.
He slipped the divorce envelope inside his jacket and quietly moved away from the sunroom door.
Inside, Patricia had heard it too.
Her face lost its color.
Serena noticed.
“Who’s coming?”
Patricia grabbed her handbag.
“You should have listened to me.”
“Mother?”
“You’ve made your choice.”
Patricia hurried toward the opposite entrance of the sunroom.
Serena stepped in front of her.
“What did Dad do?”
Patricia hesitated.
That hesitation answered everything.
Serena whispered, “He sent them here.”
Patricia’s silence confirmed it.
“To kill Dante?”
“And anyone who chooses Dante.”
Serena stared at her mother.
“Including me?”
Patricia looked away.
The elevator doors began opening.
Dante drew his pistol.
Two men stepped into the hallway.
They wore the uniforms of his private security company.
Dante recognized both.
Neither belonged on the residential floor.
The first man reached toward his jacket.
Dante moved before he could draw.
He seized the man’s wrist, slammed it against the marble wall, and knocked the weapon loose. The second attacker lunged forward.
Dante drove his shoulder into him.
The struggle was fast, brutal, and controlled.
A suppressed shot struck the wooden paneling.
Serena screamed inside the sunroom.
“Dante!”
That single word was different from every time she had ever spoken his name.
There was no distance in it.
Only terror for him.
Dante forced the second attacker against the wall and disarmed him.
Footsteps thundered from the elevator.
More were coming.
Dante opened the sunroom door.
Serena spun toward him.
Her expression went blank.
Patricia looked as though she had seen a ghost.
Dante stood in the doorway, weapon lowered but ready.
His eyes met Serena’s.
Neither spoke.
She knew.
He had heard everything.
“How long?” Serena whispered.
“Long enough.”
Pain crossed her face.
“Dante—”
“Later.”
Another elevator chimed.
Dante looked at Patricia.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
He stepped closer.
“How many men did Vincent send?”
Patricia backed away.
“I wasn’t told.”
Dante’s stare hardened.
“Wrong answer.”
“Six, maybe eight!”
“Entrances?”
“Main elevator and service stairs.”
“Roof?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante took Serena’s hand.
She stiffened instinctively.
For three years, Dante would have released her immediately.
This time Serena tightened her fingers around his.
That tiny gesture hit him harder than anything Patricia had revealed.
“Stay with me,” he said.
Serena nodded.
Dante led both women toward a concealed panel beside the bookcase.
He pressed his thumb against a hidden scanner.
The wall opened.
Patricia stared.
“A safe room?”
Dante ignored her.
The room beyond was small but fortified, equipped with emergency communications, medical supplies, monitors, weapons, and a secondary exit route.
Serena looked around.
“You never told me about this.”
“You never asked.”
Pain flickered between them.
There would be time for that pain later.
If they survived.
Dante activated the security monitors.
Several feeds were black.
Others showed armed men moving through the building.
“Your father planned this well,” Dante said.
Serena looked sick.
“I’m sorry.”
He turned.
“For what?”
“My family.”
“You’re not responsible for Vincent.”
“I knew he was dangerous.”
“And you spent three years making sure I knew it too.”
Serena stared at him.
Before she could answer, a secure radio crackled.
“Boss?”
Dante recognized the voice.
Marco Bellini.
One of the few men he trusted without reservation.
“Marco.”
“Thank God. Where are you?”
“Residential safe room.”
“We lost the lobby. I’ve got four loyal men coming through the garage.”
“South Docks?”
“Already hit.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“How bad?”
“Warehouses three and five are burning. But your dock crew got out.”
Dante closed his eyes briefly.
At least his people were alive.
“Get here.”
“We’re eight minutes out.”
Dante checked the monitors.
They might not have eight minutes.
A warning light flashed.
Someone had entered the residential hallway.
Serena stepped beside him.
“What can I do?”
Dante looked at her.
It was perhaps the first time in their marriage she had asked him that question.
“Stay alive.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“For me, tonight, it is.”
Her eyes filled.
Dante looked away before emotion compromised him.
Patricia suddenly spoke.
“There may be another way.”
Dante turned.
She swallowed.
“Vincent believes Serena is leaving with me.”
“So?”
“So he gave me a code phrase.”
Serena’s eyes narrowed.
“What phrase?”
Patricia opened her handbag and removed her phone.
“If I send it, the men are supposed to let us through.”
Dante took the phone.
“Or it tells them exactly where we are.”
Patricia said nothing.
Dante studied her.
Then Serena stepped between them.
“She’s telling the truth.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she’s scared.”
Patricia looked offended.
Serena ignored her.
“My mother lies when she’s confident. When she’s afraid, she tells partial truths.”
Dante almost smiled.
Almost.
He handed the phone back.
“What’s the phrase?”
Patricia typed.
THE BRIDE IS COMING HOME.
Dante stared at the message.
“Don’t send it yet.”
He returned to the monitors.
Three armed men entered the hallway.
Then a fourth.
They spread out.
Professional.
Dante watched their movements.
One approached the sunroom.
Another headed directly toward the hidden safe room wall.
Dante’s expression darkened.
“They know where this room is.”
Serena looked at Patricia.
“How?”
Patricia shook her head.
“I didn’t tell them.”
Dante believed her.
Which created a worse possibility.
Someone inside Dante’s organization had provided Vincent with architectural plans.
Marco’s voice crackled through the radio.
“Boss, change of plan.”
“Talk.”
“We intercepted communications.”
Dante waited.
Marco continued.
“Someone on your inner council has been feeding Romano information for months.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet.”
A heavy impact struck the safe-room door.
Serena jumped.
Another impact.
Dante grabbed a second weapon from the cabinet.
“Secondary exit,” he ordered.
He opened a concealed hatch behind the emergency shelving.
A narrow maintenance passage disappeared into darkness.
Patricia recoiled.
“I’m not crawling through there.”
Dante looked at her.
“Then stay.”
She entered immediately.
Serena followed, but Dante caught her hand before she disappeared.
She turned.
For several seconds they simply looked at each other.
Three years of silence stood between them.
“I heard what you said,” Dante whispered.
Serena’s lips trembled.
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
Another blow shook the door.
She looked ashamed.
“I never wanted you to know like this.”
“Did you mean it?”
Her eyes searched his.
“When I said I loved you?”
Dante nodded.
Serena’s answer was barely audible.
“Every word.”
Something inside Dante broke open.
He touched her cheek.
It was the most intimate gesture they had shared in three years.
Serena leaned into his palm.
Another impact struck the door.
Dante withdrew his hand.
“Go.”
“What about you?”
“I’m behind you.”
“Promise?”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“I promise.”
Serena disappeared into the passage.
Dante entered after her and sealed the panel.
Seconds later, the safe-room door burst open behind them.
They moved through darkness while armed men searched only feet away.
The passage descended toward a private garage.
Marco was supposed to meet them there.
Dante stayed behind Serena, one hand occasionally touching her back to guide her.
When they reached the final door, he stopped.
Something was wrong.
No radio contact.
No sound.
Dante opened the door two inches.
The underground garage appeared empty.
Then a black SUV flashed its headlights twice.
Marco’s signal.
Dante relaxed slightly.
He led Serena and Patricia out.
The SUV door opened.
Marco stepped forward.
“Boss.”
Dante nodded.
Then Serena suddenly stopped walking.
Her eyes fixed on something behind Marco.
A man was standing beside another vehicle.
Older.
Silver-haired.
Holding a pistol.
Serena’s face went white.
“Dad?”
Vincent Romano smiled.
May you like
“Hello, sweetheart.”
And then he pointed the gun directly at Dante.
