Chapter 10 - The Price of a Secret
Dante snatched the note from the table, his knuckles turning white as his eyes scanned the handwritten words. I stood beside him, holding my breath, watching the expression on his face harden into something terrifying.
He didn't read it aloud. He handed it to me silently.
“You can’t lock the past away forever, Dante,” the note read in neat, precise cursive. “The ledger belongs to the city, not to a dead woman or a cleaning girl. If you want to keep the child alive, bring the ledger and the girl to the south dock warehouse by midnight. Come alone, or the estate burns with everyone inside.”
The silence in the medical bay was deafening.
“She’s gone,” Mateo said, staring at the open window. “Mrs. Gable was our internal leak all along. She’s the one who gave the security codes to the city council's hit squad.”
“Twenty years of loyalty,” Dante said, his voice terrifyingly calm, though the veins in his neck stood out like thick cords. “And she sold us out for a pension funded by politicians.”
I looked down at the note, then over at the doorway leading upstairs where Sophia was still sleeping peacefully in the master suite, completely unaware that a manhunt was closing in around her.
“Midnight,” I said, looking up at Dante. My voice didn't shake. The fear that had paralyzed me earlier had burned away, replaced by a cold, protective rage. “They want the ledger, and they want us.”
“They are not getting either of you,” Dante said instantly, turning to Mateo. “Get the core loyal detail ready. We lock down every gate, prep the armored vehicles, and we secure the perimeter. I am going to the south docks, but I am not going alone.”
“Boss, the note said come alone,” Mateo warned, stepping forward. “If they see an armed detail, they could hurt the girl or use the leverage—"
“They won't have the chance,” Dante interrupted, his voice cutting through the room with absolute, unquestionable authority. He turned his dark eyes back to me, and for the first time, I saw something in them that wasn't just guilt or grief—it was a fierce, unwavering vow. “Rosa. Take Sophia and stay in the master suite. My best men will guard the door. I am going to end this tonight.”
“No,” I said firmly.
Dante froze. “Rosa, listen to me—this is a syndicate war. It is not your fight.”
“It is my fight,” I snapped back, stepping right up to his massive frame, refusing to back down. “My grandmother hid that ledger. My daughter is the key to the lockbox, and her name is on their hit list. You think locking us in a room is going to keep us safe while you walk into a trap? If you go down there without the ledger, or without me to verify what’s inside, they will just keep hunting us down until there’s nothing left.”
Dante stared down at me, his jaw working as he weighed the dangerous logic in my words. For a long moment, neither of us breathed. The tension in the small room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“If I take you with me,” Dante said slowly, his voice rough with reluctance, “you stay behind me every single second. You do not touch the ledger, you do not speak to them, and you let me handle the animals who killed my wife.”
“Deal,” I said.
Dante turned to Mateo. “Get the cars ready. We leave in ten minutes.”
As Mateo hurried out to execute the orders, Dante walked over to the desk, picked up the heavy leather-bound ledger, and tucked it securely inside his heavy wool coat. He looked back at me one last time before we headed upstairs to wake my daughter.
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The war for the Falcone estate was no longer about the ghosts of the past.
It was about who would survive the night.
