Chapter 3 - The Wolves at the Gate
The morning arrived gray and heavy with unfallen rain.
The annual Moretti Founders' Dinner was set to begin at six o'clock that evening. Under normal circumstances, the entire estate would be a hive of frantic preparation—caterers unloading crates of vintage Barolo, florists arranging white lilies, and armed guards discreetly patrolling the perimeter fence.
Instead, the estate felt like an armed compound preparing for a siege.
By nine in the morning, Dante had fired six groundskeepers and three security guards after Marco discovered that several motion sensors near the cottage had been manually looped on a digital delay. The rot inside the estate ran deeper than a single secret tunnel; Victor Cole had not acted alone. Someone on the inside had sold the schematics of the property.
I sat in the corner of Dante’s private quarters on the third floor, watching Sophie color pictures of Bruno on a sketch pad. The giant dog lay across her small feet, snoring softly, never letting her out of his sight.
The double doors opened, and Teresa Moretti entered. The matriarch was dressed in an impeccable charcoal suit, her silver hair pulled back into a severe chignon. She carried an antique wooden jewelry box under her arm.
"Elena," Teresa said, her gravelly voice tinged with genuine sorrow. She walked over to the armchair opposite me and sat down with a quiet sigh. "My son told you the truth."
"You lied to me for three years," I said, keeping my voice low so Sophie wouldn't hear. "You let me believe Miguel's death was a freak accident. You let me scrub your floors while knowing my husband was killed in your war."
"I protected you from the vultures who tore him apart," Teresa countered, leaning forward, her aged eyes fierce and unyielding. "If the Rossis knew Miguel was an informant, they would have butchered you and that baby before the coroner even cleared the street. Bringing you here was the only way to put Dante's shield over your heads without raising questions."
She set the wooden box on the low table between us and opened it. Inside, nestled on red velvet, was not jewelry, but a rusted brass key and a small, heavy silver USB drive.
"Miguel gave this to our driver two minutes before the bullets started flying," Teresa said. "He told our man: 'Give this to Dante. Tell him to keep my girls safe.' We couldn't decrypt it. The digital lock was tied to an encryption key we never found. But Victor Cole thought he could force you to give it up."
"I don't know anything about encryption," I said, shaking my head. "Miguel never talked to me about his work. He wanted our home to be ordinary."
"He loved you," Teresa said simply. "And he knew that one day, the men who ruined his life would come looking for retribution. That day is today, child."
Before I could answer, Dante walked into the room. He had showered and changed into a crisp white shirt and a tailored dark vest, his sidearm securely holstered against his ribs. The tension around him was almost electric.
"Marco found the external tunnel exit," Dante announced, glancing at his mother. "It empties into an abandoned drainage ditch half a mile past our tree line. Cole didn't come alone. Marco found tire tracks from three black Suburbans parked off Old Mill Road at dawn."
My heart seized. "They're still out there?"
"The Rossi syndicate dissolved, but their hired guns didn't," Dante said, turning to me. "They know Cole failed. They know the window of opportunity is closing. They’re planning to hit the Founders’ Dinner tonight while the house is full of guests and the local police are bribed to look the other way."
"We have to cancel the dinner!" I cried, rising from the sofa. "Send the guests away! Take Sophie and run!"
"If we cancel, it signals weakness," Dante said, his voice dropping into that chilling, authoritative register. "If the other families smell blood in the water, fifty years of peace on Long Island burns to the ground by midnight. We hold the dinner. We lure them into the light."
He walked over to where Sophie was coloring and crouched beside her. "Sophie, my girl. Today, you and your mama are going to stay in the safest room in this entire state. Nobody is going to knock on your door ever again. I give you my word."
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Sophie looked up, her amber eyes—so much like her father's—staring solemnly into Dante's. "Will Bruno stay with Mama?"
Dante smiled a rare, genuine smile that transformed his harsh face into something breathtakingly handsome. "Bruno will be your personal bodyguard. And I will be right outside."
