Chapter 4 - The Confession in the DarkBy sunrise, the rain had cleared, leaving behind a pale, bruised morning sky over Lake Michigan.
I hadn't slept a wink. I had spent the rest of the night sitting in a corner of the massive estate library, watching the gray light filter through stained-glass windows while armed guards patrolled the hallways outside.
The door opened softly, and Dante walked in carrying a steaming ceramic mug of black coffee and a small white envelope. He looked exhausted; the shadows beneath his gray eyes were deep, and the cut on his jaw was stark against his stubble.
He set the mug down on the mahogany table in front of me.
“You should drink that,” he said quietly, pulling up a heavy leather armchair and sitting down across from me.
I looked at the coffee, then up at him. “Why did you keep me here, Dante?”
It was the first time I had used his first name. It felt strange on my tongue—heavy, dangerous, and intimate all at once.
Dante let out a slow, heavy breath, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring down at his hands. “Because Vanessa isn't acting alone. The cut brake lines weren't just a domestic dispute. Someone inside my inner circle helped her. Someone wants me dead so they can take over the North Side docks next week.”
“And what does that have to do with me?” I asked, my voice trembling with frustration. “I’m just a waitress, Dante! I serve soup and pour wine! I don't know anything about docks or syndicates or mob wars!”
“You know too much,” Dante said bluntly. “If Vanessa knows you heard them at Bellini’s, she’s going to send someone after you the second you step foot off this property. And if my enemies find out that a civilian girl pulled me out of that car and knows about the assassination attempt, they’ll hunt you down to get to me.”
“So what?” I tears pricked at my eyes, hot and angry. “I’m your prisoner now? I’m trapped in this golden cage forever because I decided to do the right thing?”
“Not forever,” Dante said, sliding the white envelope across the table.
I looked down at it suspiciously. “What is this?”
“A passport, a bank routing number with five hundred thousand dollars, and train tickets to Montreal,” Dante said, his voice entirely steady. “Leo will drive you to a private airfield in Wisconsin this afternoon. Once you’re across the border, you can start over anywhere you want. New name, new life, complete protection.”
I stared at the envelope, dumbfounded. Half a million dollars. A new life in Canada. It was everything a broke, overworked waitress could ever dream of escaping to.
So why did my chest suddenly feel so hollow?
“And you?” I asked quietly, looking up into his gray eyes. “What happens to you?”
“I stay and finish the war,” Dante replied, standing up slowly. “I find out which one of my capos helped Vanessa, and I settle the score.”
He turned and walked toward the library doors.
“Dante,” I called out.
He paused, his hand resting on the brass handle, looking back over his shoulder.
May you like
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Pack your bags, Cara. Leo will be at your door at two o’clock.”
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