Chapter 2: The Man Who Could Not Die
The flashlight in my hand suddenly felt heavier than a weapon.
Dante Moretti looked at me with a seriousness that made my blood run cold.
“Turn it off,” he whispered again.
I didn’t move.
Not because I didn’t understand.
Because I did.
Someone had tried to kill him.
And now someone was walking down the same mountain path toward the wreck.
The rain covered the sound of their footsteps, but not completely.
Crunch.
A branch breaking.
Crunch.
Closer.
Dante’s breathing changed. He was still trapped inside the wreck, one leg pinned beneath the crushed dashboard, his face pale from blood loss and shock.
Yet somehow, he looked more dangerous than the person approaching us.
“Who is it?”” I whispered.
His eyes stayed locked on the trees above.
“I don’t know.””
That answer scared me more than anything else.
“You don’t know?””
“No.””
The shadow between the trees stopped.
I felt every muscle in my body tighten.
Dante looked at me.
“Listen carefully.””
I leaned closer.
“If they find me alive, they will finish what they started.””
My voice barely came out.
“You mean someone is trying to kill you twice in one night?””
His expression hardened.
“Yes.””
The rain dripped from my hair onto my face.
I looked at the broken car.
At the impossible angle.
At the ravine below.
Then back toward the approaching figure.
“What do we do?””
For a moment, Dante just stared at me.
Like he couldn’t believe I had asked.
Like nobody had ever stayed beside him when danger arrived.
Finally, he said quietly, “You leave.””
I almost laughed.
“Excuse me?””
“You heard me.””
“You’re trapped in a wreck on the side of a mountain.””
“I’m aware.””
“And someone is coming to kill you.””
“I’m aware of that too.””
“Then why would I leave?””
His jaw tightened.
“Because you’re not part of this.””
I looked down at my bleeding hands.
“Too late.””
The words surprised both of us.
Dante studied me.
“You have no idea what you just stepped into.””
“Maybe not.””
I looked toward the trees.
“But I know what happens if I walk away.””
A long silence passed.
Then the stranger above us moved again.
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“Hide.””
I looked around.
“There’s nowhere to hide.””
“There’s always somewhere to hide.””
“That sounds like something a person says right before they die.””
A tiny flicker crossed his face.
Not a smile.
Not exactly.
But something close.
“You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.””
“I’m a waitress,” I whispered.
“Those are usually the same thing.””
For the first time, Dante looked almost human.
Then the sound above us stopped.
The person was no longer walking.
They were watching.
Dante reached toward the inside pocket of his damaged jacket.
I grabbed his wrist.
“What are you doing?””
His eyes dropped to my hand.
“You should remove your hand.””
“Why?””
“Because most people who touch me without permission don’t get a second chance.””
I immediately let go.
“Sorry.””
His expression changed slightly.
“You apologized?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I grabbed your arm.””
The confusion on his face was strange.
Like he was used to fear, anger, and obedience.
Not politeness.
Not concern.
Another branch snapped.
Closer.
Dante looked toward the sound.
Then he spoke.
“Take my phone.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
“My phone. Inside my coat.””
“You have a phone?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t you call someone?””
His silence answered before his words did.
“Because I don’t know who I can trust.””
The honesty of that statement surprised me.
I carefully reached into his coat and found the phone.
The screen was cracked but still working.
There were dozens of missed calls.
Messages.
Alerts.
Names I didn’t recognize.
One notification appeared at the top.
Unknown Number:
*You should have stayed dead.*
My stomach twisted.
I showed him.
His face became completely unreadable.
“Do you know who sent it?””
“No.””
“Can you track it?””
“Yes.””
“Then do it.””
He looked at me.
“You know how?””
“I watched enough crime shows.””
For a second, he simply stared.
Then, unbelievably, he let out a quiet breath.
Not quite a laugh.
But close.
“You’re serious.””
“Very.””
“You realize my life is in danger?””
“Yes.””
“And your solution is television knowledge?””
“When people are desperate, they use what they have.””
Something changed in his eyes.
Respect.
Maybe.
Or maybe just curiosity.
Before he could answer, a voice came from the darkness.
“Dante?””
Everything stopped.
The voice was male.
Calm.
Familiar.
Dante’s expression changed instantly.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“Do you know him?”” I whispered.
Dante didn’t answer.
The man called again.
“Dante, I know you’re alive.””
My heart sank.
“He knows.””
Dante’s eyes moved to me.
“Don’t speak.””
The stranger stepped closer.
His flashlight cut through the trees.
A man appeared on the slope above us.
Tall.
Dark coat.
Expensive shoes completely wrong for climbing through mud.
He looked around thirty-five.
He wasn’t searching.
He was confirming.
That terrified me.
Because it meant he already knew where we were.
“Dante,” the man called.
“You always were difficult to kill.””
Dante’s face turned cold.
“Marco.””
The name fell from his mouth like a warning.
The stranger smiled.
“Good. You remember me.””
I looked between them.
“You know him?””
Dante didn’t take his eyes off Marco.
“He works for me.””
The rain seemed colder.
“He worked for you?””
Dante’s silence confirmed it.
Marco stepped closer.
“I was hoping the fall would do it.””
His voice was almost disappointed.
“But I suppose I should have expected more.””
My heart started racing.
“You sabotaged his car?””
Marco looked at me.
Only then did he seem to notice I existed.
His eyes moved over my uniform.
My soaked hair.
My shaking hands.
A slow smile appeared.
“And who are you?””
I said nothing.
Dante answered.
“She saved my life.””
Marco’s expression changed.
“Interesting.””
He looked at me again.
“You must be very unlucky.””
“Why?””
“Because now you know too much.””
The words sent a chill through me.
Dante shifted against the wreck.
“Marco.””
The man looked back at him.
“You’re making a mistake.””
“No, Dante.””
Marco stepped closer.
“You made the mistake.””
He raised his flashlight.
Not at Dante.
At me.
I froze.
“You trusted a stranger.””
Dante’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Walk away.””
Marco laughed softly.
“Still giving orders?””
“You don’t want to do this.””
“Actually…”
Marco tilted his head.
“I’ve wanted to do this for years.””
The tension between them felt older than this night.
Older than the mountain.
Older than the crash.
I suddenly realized something.
This wasn’t just an assassination attempt.
This was betrayal.
Someone close to Dante had turned against him.
And Vanessa wasn’t the only person involved.
Marco took another step.
Then Dante did something I never expected.
He moved his injured body in front of mine.
Protecting me.
I stared at him.
“You can barely stand.””
“I know.””
“Then why are you trying to protect me?””
His answer was immediate.
“Because you’re the only person here who came to save me.””
Marco watched the exchange.
And his smile disappeared.
That was when I knew something important had happened.
Something Marco didn’t expect.
Dante Moretti trusted almost no one.
But somehow, in less than an hour, he had decided I mattered.
Marco lowered the flashlight.
And reached inside his coat.
My heart stopped.
I grabbed Dante’s arm.
But Dante was already moving.
“Down!””
A loud crack exploded through the mountain air.
I dropped to the ground.
The sound echoed through the ravine.
For a moment, I couldn’t hear anything except ringing.
Then I looked up.
Dante was still there.
Marco was gone.
But the bullet had hit something beside us.
The tree holding the wreck.
A deep crack split through the wood.
Dante’s eyes went wide.
“Cara.””
“What?””
His face turned pale.
“Run.””
I looked at the damaged tree.
Then at the car hanging over the ravine.
The tree was starting to break.
And below us was nothing but darkness.
Dante grabbed my hand.
“The car is going down.””
I looked at him.
“We can’t move you.””
His eyes locked with mine.
“Then we have about thirty seconds to figure out how.””
The tree groaned.
A piece of bark fell into the ravine.
And somewhere above us, Marco’s voice disappeared into the rain.
But before he left, he shouted one final sentence.
A sentence that made Dante’s entire expression change.
“Ask your wife why she needed you dead, Dante!””
The tree cracked again.
And I realized the truth.
May you like
Dante Moretti wasn’t just fighting to survive the night.
He was fighting to discover who had already destroyed his life before the crash ever happened.
