Chapter 5 - Dante Steps Out of the Dark
Tony Brandt didn't run; he scrambled. His two bodyguards backed away with their hands raised, practically knocking each other over to reach the subway stairs. Within thirty seconds, the corridor was deserted except for Dante, his security detail, and me. The adrenaline that had kept me standing abruptly vanished, and my knees buckled.
Before I hit the grimy station floor, Dante’s arm wrapped securely around my waist, lifting me effortlessly against his chest.
""I've got you,"" he said quietly.
""I can walk,"" I protested weakly, my voice muffled against the lapel of his coat.
""You've spent three years walking through hell on broken bones, Clara. You can let someone carry you for twenty yards.""
He didn't put me down. He carried me out through the private service exit where a black armored SUV waited at the curb with its hazard lights flashing. The driver leaped out, opening the rear passenger door immediately. Dante set me onto the plush leather seat with surprising gentleness, climbing in beside me as the driver sped into the downtown morning traffic.
I pulled my knees toward my chest, nursing my bruised arm. The interior of the car was quiet, insulated from the blaring horns and sirens of the waking city.
""How did you know I would be at that station?"" I asked, looking at Dante’s sharp profile.
""You take the same transit line every morning at seven-thirty,"" he replied, pulling a crystal flask from the console and pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a tumbler, offering it to me. ""I don't leave my assets unguarded, especially when I know a hyena like Brandt is circling them.""
I shook my head, declining the drink. ""I'm not an asset, Mr. Moretti. I'm a bookkeeper who accidentally walked into the middle of your war.""
Dante took a small sip from the glass, his eyes fixed on the rain beginning to streak the tinted windows. ""My father and your father were friends, Clara.""
The words landed like a mortar shell in the quiet vehicle. I turned to stare at him, my mouth opening slightly in disbelief. ""What?""
""William Hale wasn't just an accountant,"" Dante explained, his voice softening into something resembling sorrow. ""He was my father’s personal treasurer twenty years ago. When my father was murdered during the syndicates' restructuring five years ago, your father took the master records of all our offshore holdings to keep them out of corrupt hands. He hid them behind the shell company you discovered: Lakeshore Provisions.""
My head spun with the sheer magnitude of the revelation. ""Then why did Tony Brandt target him?""
""Because Tony was working with someone inside our family,"" Dante said, his jaw tightening dangerously. ""Someone who wanted those offshore records so they could strip the Moretti assets and force me out of the succession. Your father refused to give up the encryption keys. Tony harassed him, intimidated him, and eventually ran him off the road into the river. They made it look like a heart attack behind the wheel.""
Tears prickled behind my eyelids, hot and unbidden. All those years, I had believed my father died of stress, leaving me a mountain of shame and debt. In truth, William Hale had died a hero, protecting the legacy of an empire while his daughter was left to be scavenged by the wolves he defied.
""Who is the insider?"" I asked, my voice trembling with cold fury. ""Who authorized Brandt to steal that money?""
Dante turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning with ruthless intent. ""That's why I need your eyes on the books today, Clara. We know the money left through Lakeshore Provisions. But someone on my executive board had to sign the executive release vouchers every month to bypass my desk.""
""Frank Rossi,"" I said immediately, the memory of Frank's strange reaction to my Friday deadline flashing in my mind. ""Frank signed every single vendor check.""
May you like
Dante didn't look surprised. He simply nodded, reaching over to take my hand. His fingers were warm, steady, and protective, closing around mine like an unshakeable promise. ""Then today, Clara, we tear out the rot together.""
***
