Chapter 7
The room erupted. Not in applause — in conversation. The low, urgent hum of people who had come expecting one announcement and received another. Rosina stood up, her chair scraping against the marble. Serena remained seated, her face unreadable.
Valyria rose slowly, using her cane. The room quieted.
“Everyone,” she said. “My son has just announced his engagement. You may congratulate him, or you may leave. Choose quickly.”
Rosina sat down. Serena picked up her wine glass. The hum returned, softer this time, rearranging itself into something closer to acceptance.
Dante did not release my hand. “We need to talk. Now.”
He led me through the side corridor, past the kitchen, past the security office, into the private study at the back of the house. The door closed behind us. The lock turned.
“The folder Bianca gave you,” he said. “I know about it.”
I went very still.
“Marco’s men were seen entering your building. I had someone watching your office after the first incident. I did not tell you because I knew you would stop working.”
“Then you know about Elena.”
“I know Marco took her. I know Bianca was forced to cooperate. I know you spent the last week trying to find a way to save her without telling me.”
“How long have you known?”
“Long enough to have Elena moved to a safe location this morning.”
The words did not register at first. I stared at him. “What?”
“Marco’s men were watching a woman in a private clinic in Queens. Elena was moved to a Moretti property at five this morning. She is safe. She is receiving medical care. Bianca is with her.”
I could not breathe. “You did not tell me.”
“You would have stopped me. You were afraid that any action would trigger retaliation. You were right to be afraid. But I have been doing this longer than you have, Lena. I know how to move without leaving marks.”
“You moved Marco’s hostage without him knowing?”
“Marco believes she is still in the clinic. He has no reason to check until after the birthday.”
I sat down on the edge of the desk. My legs would not hold me.
“The men who threatened you in the stairwell — they will not threaten anyone again.”
I looked up sharply. “What did you do?”
“The older one was handled this afternoon. The younger one was with him. They are being held in a warehouse on the Brooklyn waterfront. Marco will receive a photograph of them tomorrow morning, along with a message: the Varlli family does not negotiate with men who put hands on women in parking garages.”
I stared at him. “You planned all of this.”
“I planned the part I could control. The part I could not control — falling in love with you — that I did not plan at all.”
He crossed the room. He stopped in front of me. He did not touch me. He waited.
“There is still a room full of people waiting for you,” I said.
“Let them wait.”
“Your mother.”
“Is proud of me for the first time in years.”
“Serena.”
“Will understand. She is already halfway out the door. She told me this morning that she knew I was not in love with her.”
I looked down at my hands. “I was going to let you go. I had a plan. I was going to smile at the wedding and send a nice gift and pretend I had never felt anything.”
“And now?”
“Now I do not know what to do with my hands.”
May you like
Dante laughed. The real laugh, the one that changed his face. He took both my hands in his.
“Hold mine.”
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