Chapter 4 - The Life Someone Stole
By sunrise, Dante understood one thing clearly.
Someone had been living inside his name.
Signing his authorization.
Moving his money.
Using his companies.
Giving orders that appeared to come directly from him.
And they had been doing it for years.
Elena sat in Luca’s ICU room while the antidote slowly worked through his system.
Dante stood by the window.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally Elena whispered, “Maybe Victor was right.”
Dante turned.
“About what?”
“You looking outside the family for the knife.”
“I’m looking at Victor.”
“He may not be alone.”
“He isn’t.”
“You think people inside your organization helped him.”
“I know they did.”
Elena looked at Luca.
“Then how do we know who we can trust?”
“We don’t.”
Mia stirred in Elena’s lap.
Dante watched the little girl.
He had not asked yet.
Maybe he was afraid of the answer.
“How old is she?”
Elena knew immediately what he meant.
“Eighteen months.”
He calculated.
His face relaxed slightly.
“She isn’t mine.”
“No.”
A strange emotion passed through his eyes.
Not disappointment exactly.
Relief mixed with sadness.
“Her father?”
“Daniel Harper.”
Dante recognized the name.
“A teacher?”
“Yes.”
“You married?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
Elena stared at Mia.
“Dead.”
Dante’s expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“Car accident eight months ago.”
“Did he know about me?”
“He knew everything.”
“And Luca?”
“Daniel loved him.”
Dante looked down.
Jealousy had no right to exist.
But grief did.
Another man had tucked his son into bed.
Another man had attended school events.
Another man had been called when Luca got sick.
Dante had been twenty minutes away.
“You loved him?”
Elena’s eyes lifted.
“Yes.”
Dante nodded once.
He deserved that too.
“He deserved better than becoming part of this.”
“He wasn’t part of this.”
“Someone followed Luca.”
“Daniel was already dead.”
“Maybe his death wasn’t an accident.”
Elena stood so quickly Mia woke.
“No.”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t.”
“You just did.”
“I’m saying we check.”
“Daniel died because a truck crossed the center line.”
“Who drove the truck?”
“A man named Peter Vance.”
Dante froze.
Elena noticed.
“What?”
“Say the name again.”
“Peter Vance.”
Dante stared at her.
“Teresa Vale’s brother was Peter Vance.”
Elena’s face went white.
“No.”
“It could be another person.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Mia began crying.
Elena held her close.
Dante walked into the hallway and called Marco.
“Find everything on Peter Vance.”
Ten minutes later, Marco sent the report.
Peter Anthony Vance.
Forty-seven.
Former commercial driver.
Brother of Teresa Vale.
Died at the scene of the crash that killed Daniel Harper.
Toxicology: alcohol level far above legal limit.
Case closed.
Too clean.
Dante returned.
“It was him.”
Elena stared at Luca.
Then Mia.
“My children were in the car.”
Dante’s chest tightened.
“What?”
“Luca had a broken wrist. Mia was eleven months old.”
Dante sat.
For a moment neither knew what to say.
Daniel had died.
Luca and Mia had survived.
Was that the plan?
Or had someone intended all of them to die?
Dante’s phone rang.
Marco again.
“We found something else.”
“Go.”
“Peter received a wire two days before the crash.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“From?”
“Caritas House.”
Dante closed his eyes.
His stolen identity again.
“Who approved it?”
“You already know.”
“Send me everything.”
Elena watched him.
“It looked like you paid him.”
“Yes.”
“If police ever reopened the crash…”
“They’d find my name.”
“And think you ordered Daniel killed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dante looked toward Luca.
“To make sure you never trusted me again.”
The realization hit both of them at once.
This had never been only about hiding Luca.
Someone had spent years engineering a permanent divide between Dante and Elena.
Why?
Dante thought back.
Before Elena, the Salvatore organization had been unstable.
He had wanted out of several businesses.
Legitimate expansion.
Real estate.
Shipping.
Hospitality.
He had talked about leaving the old world behind.
Victor had laughed at him.
Then Elena came into his life.
Dante changed faster.
He stopped carrying a gun to dinner.
He canceled meetings that involved violence.
He began discussing a future outside Chicago.
He had even considered selling controlling interest in the family’s private security division.
Victor had called Elena a distraction.
Perhaps she had been more dangerous to Victor than either of them realized.
“You made me want out,” Dante said.
Elena looked confused.
“Out of what?”
“Everything.”
She stared.
“You never told me that.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“The week you left.”
Her eyes filled.
Dante looked away.
The past had become a room full of doors neither had opened.
Dr. Warren entered.
“Good news.”
They both stood.
“Luca’s rhythm is improving.”
Elena covered her mouth.
The doctor smiled.
“The antidote is working.”
“Is he safe?” Dante asked.
“Not yet. But this is the first improvement we’ve seen.”
Elena began crying.
Quietly.
Dante wanted to hold her.
He did not.
Dr. Warren continued.
“He may wake more fully soon.”
“Can we stay?”
“Yes.”
Hours passed.
At 10:17 a.m., Luca opened his eyes.
“Mom?”
Elena leaned over him.
“I’m here.”
“Baby?”
“Mia’s right here.”
His eyes moved.
Dante sat several feet away.
Luca smiled faintly.
“Dad stayed.”
Dante’s throat closed.
“Yeah, kid. I stayed.”
Luca looked toward Elena.
“Can he stay forever?”
Neither adult answered.
Luca frowned.
“Did I say something bad?”
“No,” Elena whispered.
Dante stood.
“You said something very good.”
Luca’s fingers moved.
Dante stepped closer and took his hand.
“Do you remember the man at school?” Dante asked.
Elena looked sharply at him.
“Dante.”
“We need to know.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“Uncle Victor?”
Dante’s stomach turned.
“You called him that?”
“He said he was your uncle.”
“What did he give you?”
“Candy.”
“What kind?”
“Red ones.”
“Did he say anything?”
Luca thought.
“He said you sent them.”
Elena’s face twisted.
Dante’s voice became softer.
“Anything else?”
“He asked if Mom still had the box.”
Elena stared.
“What box?”
Luca looked at her.
“The one under your bed.”
Elena went still.
Dante saw it.
“Elena?”
She looked toward Mia.
“I have a box.”
“What’s in it?”
“My father’s things.”
“The storage-unit records?”
“Some.”
“You kept them?”
“I kept what I thought might protect us.”
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
Dante immediately called Marco.
“Send two men to Elena’s place.”
“No,” Elena said.
Dante covered the phone.
“What?”
“I moved the box.”
“When?”
“After Daniel died.”
“Where?”
She hesitated.
“My mother’s old house.”
“Address?”
“I’ll go.”
“No.”
“It’s hidden. You won’t find it.”
“Elena—”
“If Victor wants it, we need to get there first.”
Dante looked at Luca.
Then her.
“Together.”
They left trusted security with the children and drove to a quiet neighborhood on Chicago’s northwest side.
Elena’s mother’s house had been empty for years.
Inside, dust covered the furniture.
Elena led Dante upstairs.
She knelt beside an old wardrobe and pulled away a loose floorboard.
A metal box sat beneath it.
She lifted it out.
Dante locked the bedroom door.
Elena opened the box.
Inside were ledgers.
Photographs.
Bank statements.
And an envelope marked with her father’s handwriting.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, GIVE THIS TO DANTE SALVATORE.
Elena looked up.
“My father knew your name.”
Dante reached for the envelope.
A floorboard creaked in the hallway.
They both froze.
Someone turned the bedroom doorknob.
Once.
Twice.
May you like
Then a voice from the other side whispered Elena’s name.
It was a voice she had not heard since her father’s funeral.
