Chapter 5 - Why Vanessa Wanted Naomi
“No.”
Dante said it before Naomi finished reading.
“She asked for me.”
“No.”
“Your mother—”
“No.”
Naomi held up the phone.
“We have until midnight.”
“You’re not going.”
“Then what?”
“We find another way.”
“We’ve been finding another way for hours.”
Dante paced the warehouse.
Ortiz was already studying the coordinates.
“It’s an old opera house,” she said.
Marco looked over her shoulder.
“Closed eight years ago.”
Dante knew it.
Everyone in the city did.
The Bellamy Opera House had once hosted presidents, celebrities, and charity galas.
Now it sat at the edge of downtown awaiting redevelopment.
Ortiz looked at Naomi.
“Why you?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante did.
Naomi saw it.
“What?”
He looked away.
“Dante.”
“It may be the key.”
“What about it?”
“My mother gave it to you.”
“So?”
“So Voss may think you know where something else is.”
Naomi remembered the safe-deposit box.
“Thirty-two.”
Dante nodded.
“The box.”
They drove to the bank under heavy security.
The manager opened the private vault after verifying Dante’s trust documents.
Box 32 was narrow.
Old.
Dusty.
Dante inserted a bank key.
Then Naomi used Isabella’s brass key.
Two locks clicked.
Inside was a single envelope.
And a small voice recorder.
Dante pressed play.
His father’s voice filled the vault.
“If you are hearing this, I failed.”
Dante stopped breathing.
Naomi looked at him.
The recording continued.
“Dante, I hope you never hear this. Isabella, forgive me.”
Dante sat down.
His father described Gabriel Voss.
The stolen money.
The shell companies.
The intimidation.
The witnesses who disappeared.
Then he described something worse.
Voss had accumulated evidence against powerful people—judges, executives, police officers, city officials.
Blackmail.
A private archive.
Enzo Moretti had copied part of it.
Not to use.
To destroy Voss.
He hid the copy inside a foundation account file.
September 14.
Naomi understood.
“The flash drive.”
Dante nodded.
The recording continued.
“There is one person I trust with the encryption key.”
A pause.
“Isabella.”
Naomi looked at the brass key in her hand.
Not the encryption key.
Something else.
Enzo’s voice returned.
“If anything happens to me, do not let Dante become me.”
Dante’s expression crumpled.
Only slightly.
But Naomi saw.
“He means consumed by this,” she said.
Dante shut off the recording.
“He thought I would choose revenge.”
“Would you?”
Six years ago, perhaps.
Tonight?
Dante did not answer.
Naomi understood why.
They returned to the penthouse.
Ortiz built a plan.
Naomi would appear to comply.
Dante would remain out of sight.
Police teams would enter once Isabella’s location was confirmed.
“No,” Dante said.
Ortiz slammed a folder onto the table.
“You don’t run this.”
“It’s my mother.”
“And Naomi’s life.”
Naomi looked between them.
“I’m going.”
Dante turned.
“Stop saying that.”
“Stop acting like you can decide.”
His jaw clenched.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“And I’m trying to keep Isabella alive.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you’re afraid.”
He stared.
Marco quietly walked out.
Ortiz followed.
They were alone.
Dante’s voice lowered.
“Yes.”
Naomi had expected anger.
Not that.
“Yes, I’m afraid.”
He walked toward the window.
“My entire life, fear has been something other people had around me.”
Naomi listened.
“My father taught me that if people fear you, they hesitate before hurting what belongs to you.”
“What belongs to you?”
“My family.”
Naomi disliked the word.
He heard it.
“I know how that sounds.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He turned.
“And it failed.”
Naomi’s expression softened.
“My mother was hurt in my house.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I cannot stop seeing it.”
“You didn’t tie her to that chair.”
“I gave Vanessa access to her.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Yes.”
“It was not the same thing.”
His eyes moved across Naomi’s face.
“And now she wants you.”
“So let her think she has me.”
“No.”
“Dante.”
He crossed the room.
Close now.
Too close.
“What if I can’t get you out?”
Naomi’s heart changed rhythm.
“You will.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“But your mother trusted me before she trusted the evidence. I have to trust something too.”
“What?”
“You.”
Dante closed his eyes.
His forehead almost touched hers.
When he spoke, his voice was rough.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Naomi’s breath caught.
“Then maybe tell me.”
His eyes opened.
For one second she thought he might kiss her.
Instead, his phone rang.
Ortiz.
Time.
11:42 p.m.
The opera house loomed dark against the city.
Naomi entered through the front doors carrying the flash drive.
A tiny transmitter was sewn inside her collar.
Ortiz’s voice whispered through the earpiece.
“We hear you.”
Naomi walked across the ruined lobby.
Dust covered old chandeliers.
Her footsteps echoed.
“Vanessa?”
Nothing.
Then stage lights came on.
One by one.
Naomi entered the auditorium.
Isabella sat onstage.
Not tied this time.
But Dr. Mercer stood behind her.
Vanessa stood beside him.
Gabriel Voss emerged from the wings.
He was older than the photograph.
Silver-haired.
Immaculate suit.
Pleasant face.
That somehow made him worse.
“Naomi Carter.”
She stopped.
“You wanted me.”
“I wanted the drive.”
She held it up.
“And her.”
He glanced at Isabella.
“She is unfortunate collateral.”
Isabella looked at Naomi.
Her eyes were frightened.
But focused.
Naomi saw her left hand.
Three fingers tapped against the chair.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
A rhythm.
Naomi remembered the piano.
Three notes.
One promise.
“What do you want with me?” Naomi asked.
Voss smiled.
“You’ve been inside Isabella’s rooms for months.”
“So?”
“You know her routines.”
“I make her breakfast.”
“You know what she hides.”
“I found one key.”
“You found more.”
“No.”
Voss’s smile faded.
“Where is Enzo’s second archive?”
Naomi’s stomach dropped.
Second.
Ortiz heard it too.
Naomi bought time.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Voss stepped closer.
“Enzo was paranoid. He made copies.”
“I never met Enzo.”
“But Isabella trusts you.”
“She trusts me to care for her.”
“Exactly.”
Voss looked toward Isabella.
“She never trusted me.”
Isabella made a sound.
Voss turned.
She stared directly at him.
Then struggled out one word.
“Killer.”
Naomi froze.
Voss smiled.
“Still dramatic, Isabella.”
Dante heard it through the transmitter.
Naomi knew because Ortiz whispered in her ear.
“Hold position.”
Voss extended his hand.
“The drive.”
Naomi took a step forward.
Vanessa watched her carefully.
“Naomi,” she said.
Naomi stopped.
There was something strange in Vanessa’s voice.
Fear.
Not hostility.
Vanessa looked toward the balcony.
Then back.
“Don’t.”
Voss turned sharply.
“What?”
Vanessa’s face went pale.
Naomi understood.
Vanessa was afraid of him too.
“What did he promise you?” Naomi asked.
“Shut up.”
“Money?”
Vanessa’s eyes flickered.
“A place beside him?”
“Give him the drive.”
“Did he tell you what happens after?”
Voss’s expression changed.
Naomi continued.
“You know too much.”
Vanessa looked at Voss.
He smiled.
That answered everything.
Suddenly Isabella shoved her chair sideways.
Mercer grabbed for her.
Naomi ran.
“Now!”
The opera house exploded with movement.
Police entered from both sides.
Dante appeared from behind the stage.
Voss grabbed Naomi.
Something hard pressed against her ribs.
Dante stopped.
Every officer froze.
Voss pulled Naomi backward.
“Drop it.”
Dante had a gun in his hand.
He lowered it.
“Let her go.”
Voss smiled.
“There he is.”
Naomi tried to breathe.
“Son of Enzo.”
Dante’s eyes never left hers.
“Take me.”
Voss laughed.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Dante, no,” Naomi whispered.
“Quiet.”
Voss tightened his grip.
Dante stepped forward.
“I have the second archive.”
Everything stopped.
Voss stared.
“You’re lying.”
Dante reached into his coat.
Naomi’s heart slammed.
He pulled out a small black device.
Voss loosened his grip by an inch.
That was enough.
Naomi drove her heel down.
Voss cursed.
She twisted away.
A gunshot cracked through the theater.
Dante lunged.
Naomi hit the floor.
For several seconds she heard nothing except shouting.
Then hands found her.
Dante.
“Naomi.”
She looked up.
He was alive.
“Isabella?”
“Safe.”
Behind him, officers forced Voss to the ground.
Mercer was in cuffs.
Vanessa stood against a wall, shaking.
Naomi reached for Dante.
Then saw blood.
His shirt.
Near his side.
“Dante.”
He looked down.
The color left his face.
His knees buckled.
Naomi caught him as he fell.
May you like
And before his eyes closed, Dante whispered something only she heard.
“If I don’t wake up, tell my mother I came home.”
