Chapter 7
The Romano estate had once been Serena’s childhood home.
That was why she knew the wall behind the greenhouse had a blind spot.
Dante followed her through wet grass.
Marco waited with a small team beyond the property.
No army.
No dramatic assault.
Patricia’s life depended on silence.
Serena found the old service entrance.
“Still remember the code?”
“My father never changes anything he believes belongs to him.”
She entered six digits.
The door unlocked.
Dante looked at her.
“Birthday?”
“My mother’s.”
They moved through the dark house.
Serena remembered every hallway.
Every portrait.
Every room where she had learned to speak softly around her father.
When they reached Vincent’s study, the door was open.
Patricia sat inside.
Alive.
Vincent stood behind the desk.
“I knew you’d bring him.”
Serena stepped forward.
“Let her go.”
Vincent smiled.
“You always were predictable when you loved someone.”
Dante noticed the document.
“What’s that?”
Vincent pushed it forward.
“My organization.”
Serena stared.
“I’m transferring everything.”
“To whom?”
Vincent looked at Dante.
“Him.”
Dante laughed quietly.
“No.”
Vincent’s expression tightened.
“You haven’t heard the offer.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You take the Romano organization, combine it with Cavali, and become untouchable.”
“And Patricia?”
“She walks away.”
Serena looked at Dante.
Vincent continued.
“If he refuses, your mother dies.”
Serena’s face hardened.
“You think this proves something?”
“It proves what kind of man you married.”
Dante looked at the papers.
Power.
Money.
Territory.
Everything men like Vincent believed mattered.
Dante picked them up.
Serena stopped breathing.
Then he tore them in half.
Vincent stared.
Dante tore them again.
“I already threw away one set of papers this week,” Dante said. “I’m getting good at it.”
Serena almost laughed despite the danger.
Vincent’s face twisted.
“You sentimental fool.”
“No.”
Dante dropped the pieces.
“I’m finished building my life around dead men’s expectations.”
Vincent raised his weapon toward Patricia.
Serena moved.
So did Dante.
But Patricia moved first.
She kicked backward, knocking Vincent off balance.
Serena rushed toward her mother.
Dante tackled Vincent.
The gun slid beneath the desk.
Vincent struck Dante.
Dante returned the blow.
Years of resentment erupted between them.
Vincent reached for the weapon.
Dante pinned his wrist.
“You killed my father.”
Vincent laughed breathlessly.
“Arthur killed him.”
“You ordered it.”
“I approved what was necessary.”
Dante’s fist tightened.
He could end it.
One movement.
One decision.
Vincent saw the temptation.
“Do it.”
Dante stared at him.
“Show Serena what you really are.”
That stopped him.
Dante slowly released Vincent.
“No.”
Vincent blinked.
Dante stood.
“You don’t get to decide who I become.”
Sirens approached.
Marco entered with federal agents.
Vincent looked toward Serena.
“You called them?”
She shook her head.
Patricia raised her bound hands.
“I did.”
Serena stared.
Patricia smiled weakly.
“I’m learning.”
Vincent was arrested.
As agents led him away, he stopped beside Serena.
“You’ll regret choosing him.”
Serena looked at Dante.
“No.”
Then she looked back at her father.
“I regret waiting three years to choose myself.”
Vincent was taken away.
Patricia hugged her daughter.
For the first time in years, Serena allowed herself to cry without hiding.
Dante watched.
The war appeared finished.
But wars leave wreckage.
The following morning Dante met with his captains.
He announced that the Cavali organization would begin dismantling its criminal operations.
Several men objected.
Some walked away.
Others threatened him.
Dante expected it.
What he didn’t expect was Marco’s response.
“I’m staying.”
“Why?”
Marco shrugged.
“Somebody has to make sure you don’t become respectable enough to start wearing beige.”
Dante laughed.
For the first time in years, he could imagine another life.
Then he returned home.
The penthouse still carried scars from the attack.
Serena stood in the sunroom.
The same room where everything changed.
She turned when Dante entered.
For a moment old habits returned.
She almost stepped away.
Then she stopped herself.
Dante noticed.
“So,” Serena said.
“So.”
“What happens now?”
He looked around.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s unusual.”
“I’m discovering many unpleasant experiences this week.”
She smiled.
Then her expression became uncertain.
“Dante, surviving one night doesn’t fix three years.”
“I know.”
“We barely know how to be married.”
“I know.”
“I hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“And you probably resent me.”
“Sometimes.”
Serena nodded.
“I appreciate the honesty.”
Dante approached.
“But I also love you.”
Her eyes filled.
“That makes things inconvenient.”
“Extremely.”
She laughed softly.
Dante held out his hand.
“Start over?”
Serena looked at it.
“As what?”
He considered.
“Two people who stop deciding what the other person feels without asking.”
“That seems reasonable.”
“Dinner tomorrow?”
She blinked.
“Are you asking your wife on a date?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
Serena placed her hand in his.
“I’ll be there.”
Then Dante leaned closer.
“Serena?”
“Yes?”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“Separate bedrooms.”
Her smile faded.
Dante continued.
“Until you decide otherwise.”
Serena stared at him for several seconds.
Then she rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t a passionate kiss.
It wasn’t the dramatic reconciliation Dante might once have imagined.
It was better.
Because it was real.
Yet as Serena walked away, Dante’s phone rang.
Marco.
“Boss.”
“What happened?”
“We have a problem with Arthur.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“What problem?”
“He disappeared from federal custody.”
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And suddenly Dante realized the war wasn’t over.
The most dangerous man involved had just escaped.
