Chapter 6 - The Night Dante Chose His Wife
Dante stared at the envelope.
"This isn't possible."
Elena agreed.
Her father's handwriting was unmistakable.
But Samuel Rossi had died almost a decade before Dante and Elena met.
The federal agent explained.
"The words 'Give this to Dante' were added later."
"By whom?" Elena asked.
"We don't know."
The ink was different.
Dante took the evidence bag.
"May I?"
Elena nodded.
Inside were two documents.
The first was written by Samuel.
The second by Vittorio Marino.
Elena read her father's letter first.
Samuel described discovering the trafficking network.
Carlo Marino.
Compromised investigators.
Bellweather.
The Woman in Blue.
And Vittorio.
Not as an accomplice.
As the man who had tried to help him expose it.
Samuel knew he might die.
He had hidden transaction records behind the painting's lining.
His final paragraph was for Elena.
If you ever find this, sweetheart, do not make revenge your inheritance. Truth is heavy enough. Carry only what belongs to you.
Elena stopped reading.
Tears blurred the page.
Dante silently took her hand.
She turned to Vittorio's note.
It had been written years later.
After Samuel's death.
Vittorio confessed that he'd failed to expose Carlo.
He had protected Dante instead.
Carlo had threatened his son.
Vittorio chose family over justice and spent the rest of his life regretting what that choice cost Elena's family.
Then came the added line.
If Elena ever becomes part of Dante's life, tell him the truth.
Caterina.
Elena looked across the room.
Caterina lowered her eyes.
"You wrote his name."
"Yes."
Dante stood.
"You knew."
"I knew enough."
"You let me marry Elena without telling either of us our fathers were connected."
"I was afraid."
Dante laughed bitterly.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Caterina's eyes filled.
"Because fear makes cowards of people who think they're being careful."
Elena studied her.
For the first time, she didn't see Dante's formidable mother.
She saw a widow carrying her own diary without pages.
"Why hide it?"
"Because I thought Carlo had stopped."
"He hadn't."
"No."
"You watched Elena suffer."
Caterina looked at her.
"I didn't know how much."
"Because you didn't ask."
The accusation hung there.
Elena touched Dante's arm.
He looked at her.
"Let me."
He stepped back.
Elena faced Caterina.
"You investigated me."
"Yes."
"You searched my studio."
"Yes."
"You knew Adrian had manipulated me."
"Yes."
"And instead of telling me what you knew, you decided what information I could handle."
Caterina's voice broke.
"Yes."
"Do you understand why that's the same wound everyone else kept giving me?"
Caterina began crying.
Quietly.
"I do now."
Elena nodded.
"I don't forgive you yet."
"I understand."
"But I don't want you destroyed either."
Caterina looked up.
Elena glanced toward Dante.
"Apparently that's becoming a theme."
A tiny smile touched Caterina's mouth.
Dante didn't smile.
He was still furious.
But he remained silent.
For Elena.
Hours later, they returned home.
The storm had passed.
Broken glass still covered part of the studio.
Dante stood in the doorway while Elena entered.
He didn't follow.
She turned.
"Are you coming?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
"It's your room."
"Dante."
"I read something I wasn't supposed to read here."
She understood.
"Come in."
He did.
Elena sat beside the restoration table.
Dante remained standing.
"You haven't slept."
"Neither have you."
"I'm used to it."
"That's not something to be proud of."
"No."
She studied him.
"You want to ask something."
"Several things."
"Ask."
"Did you love Adrian?"
"Once."
Dante absorbed it.
"Do you still?"
"No."
Immediate.
Certain.
He nodded.
"Next."
"Did you marry me because you wanted protection?"
Elena's expression softened.
"No."
"Did you marry me because I was the opposite of him?"
"No."
"Why?"
She looked almost amused.
"Because you spent our third date arguing with a parking meter."
Dante frowned.
"It stole twelve dollars."
"You threatened to buy the city block."
"It was an exploitative machine."
Elena laughed.
He watched her.
Then she became serious.
"I married you because you made me laugh when I'd forgotten I could."
Dante's face softened.
"And because you never asked me to become smaller so you could feel larger."
His eyes lowered.
"Until tonight."
Elena knew exactly what he meant.
"I tried to take control."
"Yes."
"I wanted a name."
"Yes."
"I wanted to destroy him."
"Definitely."
Dante sat across from her.
"I'm sorry."
Elena said nothing.
"I thought protecting you meant eliminating whatever hurt you."
"I know."
"I didn't understand that sometimes protection means not taking the choice away."
Her eyes filled.
"You're learning."
"Painfully."
"That's usually how it works."
He looked at the diary.
"I won't read another word."
Elena picked it up.
Then surprised him by placing it between them.
"I want to read you something."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
That mattered.
She opened to an entry written six months after their wedding.
Her voice trembled.
"Dante thinks love is a fortress. Walls. Locks. Guards. Maybe someday I'll tell him love isn't keeping the world out. It's knowing he won't lock me inside."
Dante looked devastated.
Elena reached for his hand.
"I wrote that when I was afraid."
"Of me?"
"Of disappearing again."
His fingers closed around hers.
"You won't."
"You can't promise that."
"No."
He thought.
"Then if you feel yourself disappearing, tell me."
"And you'll listen?"
"Even when I hate what you're saying."
She smiled.
"Especially then."
He lifted her hand and kissed it.
No grand speech.
No vow of blood.
No promises about what he would do to anyone who harmed her.
Just a kiss.
Then his phone rang.
Dante ignored it.
Elena looked at the screen.
Marco.
"Answer."
Dante did.
"How is Lucas?"
Marco's voice was strained.
"Alive."
Elena exhaled.
Dante closed his eyes briefly.
"Good."
"But there's a problem."
"What?"
"The federal evidence."
Dante stood.
"What about it?"
"Part of it is missing."
Elena's stomach tightened.
"The painting?"
"No."
Marco paused.
"The list."
"What list?"
"The names of everyone Carlo paid."
Dante looked at Elena.
Marco continued.
"Lucas says there was a second copy."
"Where?"
"He gave it to someone he trusted."
"Who?"
"He won't tell me over the phone."
"Why?"
"Because the person just entered the hospital."
Dante's expression changed.
"Marco?"
Silence.
Then a crash came through the line.
Someone shouted.
Marco swore.
The connection went dead.
Dante called back.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Elena stood.
Dante looked at her.
This time he didn't tell her to stay behind.
He asked one question.
"Coming?"
She picked up her coat.
"Yes."
They reached the door.
Dante's phone vibrated.
A photograph arrived from Marco's number.
Marco was sitting in a hospital chair.
Someone stood behind him.
A hand rested on his shoulder.
The face had been cropped out.
Below it were six words.
Bring Elena's diary. Come alone, Dante.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
Or Marco learns what his brother hid.
