Chapter 10 - The Midnight Inheritance
The town car slowed down to a smooth, silent stop, pulling over to the curb along a quiet, tree-lined residential street in the South End.
I looked out the window. We weren't at my apartment.
We were parked directly in front of a grand, limestone-fronted Victorian brownstone that looked like it belonged on a postcard for old Boston wealth—complete with wrought-iron balconies, glowing gas lamps by the double front doors, and a massive, private iron gate that clicked open automatically as the car approached.
“Where are we?” I asked, turning to look at Dante in complete bewilderment.
“Your new address,” he replied simply, reaching across the console to push open the car door. The crisp, rain-washed night air rushed into the cabin, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. “Your lease in that cramped third-floor walk-up expired the moment Bennett signed those fraudulent transfer papers. It’s time you stopped living in rooms other people allowed you to occupy.”
I sat frozen for a second, my hand resting on the velvet box containing my grandfather’s ring. The weight of it felt surreal, heavy with a history I had spent my entire life trying to run away from.
“And you?” I asked, looking back at him as he stepped out onto the wet pavement and turned to hold the door for me, his umbrella shielding us both from the steady drizzle. “What’s your price for all of this, Dante? Men like you don't rebuild empires for charity.”
Dante leaned down slightly, his face inches from mine, the gray-blue depths of his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the streetlamp overhead.
“My price is very simple, Marin,” he murmured, his voice sending a hot shiver straight down my spine. “I want you to help me burn Vanguard Commercial Holdings to the ground. From the inside out.”
I looked at the grand Victorian brownstone, then down at the silver signet ring on my palm, and finally up at the dangerous, fascinating man standing in the rain.
May you like
Slowly, deliberately, I slipped the heavy silver ring onto my right ring finger. It fit with absolute, terrifying perfection.
“Let’s start building the bonfire,” I said.
