Chapter 8: The Woman Who Never Left
Dante Moretti had faced guns, betrayal, and death.
But the thing that broke him was a photograph.
I watched him stand there in silence, holding the image of a woman who had been gone for ten years.
Elena.
The person everyone thought was a memory.
The person Dante had buried in his mind.
Alive.
Somewhere in the world.
Waiting for him.
I had seen Dante angry.
I had seen him dangerous.
I had seen him command a room without raising his voice.
But I had never seen him lost.
Not until that moment.
“Where is she?”” he asked again.
Adrian looked toward the windows.
“The location changes constantly.””
“Why?””
“Because she knows she’s being watched.””
“By who?””
Adrian didn’t answer.
Dante’s patience disappeared.
“Adrian.””
The older man sighed.
“By the same people who wanted you dead.””
The room went quiet.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“So they finally made their move.””
Dante looked at her.
“You knew this would happen?””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“But I knew they were waiting.””
“Who are they?””
Vanessa looked at him.
“The people you spent years trying not to become.””
Dante’s expression hardened.
“That doesn’t answer my question.””
“No.””
She looked away.
“Because the answer is worse.””
I looked between them.
“How can everyone know something except him?””
Nobody responded.
That bothered me.
Because Dante Moretti was supposed to be the most powerful person in the room.
Yet somehow, everyone else had been carrying pieces of his life he never knew existed.
Dante took the photograph from the table.
“I’m going to see her.””
Adrian nodded.
“I knew you would.””
“When?””
“Now.””
I looked at Dante.
“Now?””
He turned.
“Yes.””
“You’re injured.””
“I’m aware.””
“You’re walking into a situation where someone might be trying to trap you.””
“I’m aware of that too.””
I crossed my arms.
“You really enjoy saying that.””
For a second, he almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his expression changed.
“You don’t have to come.””
The words surprised me.
“Excuse me?””
“This is my problem.””
I stared at him.
“You mean the problem where someone tried to kill you, someone threatened me, and I’m apparently a witness to everything?””
His silence answered.
“Exactly.””
I shook my head.
“You still don’t understand.””
“What?””
“I’m already involved.””
Dante looked at me.
“I don’t want you involved.””
The honesty caught me off guard.
Not because he said it.
Because he meant it.
I lowered my voice.
“Why?””
He looked away.
“Because everyone close to me gets hurt.””
The room became silent.
That was the first time Dante Moretti admitted he was afraid.
Not for himself.
For someone else.
Before I could answer, Adrian’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“What?””
Everyone noticed.
“What happened?”” Dante asked.
Adrian listened for several seconds.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
“She moved.””
“Who?””
“Elena.””
Dante stepped forward.
“Where?””
“She knows we’re coming.””
A cold feeling entered my chest.
“How?””
Nobody answered.
Then Dante looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa looked back.
And they both understood at the same time.
“Someone told her.””
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Someone inside this house.””
Everyone became still.
I looked around.
Maria.
Leo.
Adrian.
Vanessa.
The people closest to him.
The people he trusted.
A horrible thought entered my mind.
What if the person helping them was still watching?
Dante seemed to have the same thought.
“Everyone stays here.””
Leo appeared at the top of the stairs.
“I knew I should have come down earlier.””
Dante looked up.
“You heard?””
“Enough.””
Leo walked downstairs.
“So Elena is alive.””
Dante studied him.
“You knew?””
Leo’s face changed slightly.
That was enough.
Dante’s voice became dangerous.
“You knew.””
Leo stopped.
“I knew she was alive.””
“How long?””
Leo didn’t answer.
“How long?””
“Three years.””
The silence afterward was unbearable.
Dante walked toward him slowly.
“Three years?””
Leo swallowed.
“Yes.””
“And you didn’t tell me.””
“I couldn’t.””
Dante laughed quietly.
Not because it was funny.
Because it hurt.
“Everyone keeps saying that.””
Leo looked at him.
“Because it’s true.””
“No.””
Dante’s voice became colder.
“It means everyone decided what I deserved to know.””
Nobody spoke.
I watched him carefully.
For the first time, I understood something.
Dante wasn’t angry because people hid information.
He was angry because everyone had made choices for him.
Leo looked down.
“She made me promise.””
Dante froze.
“What?””
“Elena.””
Leo’s voice softened.
“She made me promise not to tell you unless she was ready.””
“And you agreed?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Leo looked at him.
“Because she was afraid.””
Dante’s face changed.
Again.
That one word hurt him more than anything.
Afraid.
“Of me?””
Leo hesitated.
“Of what you were becoming.””
The words repeated the same wound.
Dante turned away.
Nobody noticed me stepping back.
Because suddenly I felt like I was standing in the middle of someone else’s unfinished story.
A story that started long before I existed.
A story where everyone had secrets.
Everyone had regrets.
And everyone had blood on their hands.
Except maybe Elena.
Maybe she was the only person who tried to escape.
Hours later, we drove through the city.
Dante sat in the passenger seat.
I drove.
He had insisted he was capable.
I had ignored him.
Again.
“You’re quiet,” I said.
“So are you.””
“I’m usually quiet.””
“No.””
I glanced at him.
“What?””
“You’re usually observant.””
I smiled slightly.
“That’s a fancy way of saying nosy.””
“I didn’t say that.””
“You thought it.””
He looked out the window.
For a moment, he looked normal.
Not a mafia boss.
Not a man everyone feared.
Just a tired man sitting in a car.
“What was Elena like?”” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“She laughed loudly.””
I looked at him.
“That’s your first answer?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because everyone else remembers her beauty.””
His voice became softer.
“I remember her laugh.””
I didn’t say anything.
“She hated expensive things.””
“That’s surprising.””
“She said they made people forget what mattered.””
A faint smile appeared.
“She used to steal my shirts.””
I laughed.
“Really?””
“Yes.””
“A billionaire’s wife stealing shirts?””
“She said mine were more comfortable.””
The smile disappeared slowly.
“I thought I had forever.””
The words were quiet.
Almost impossible to hear.
Then his phone buzzed.
He checked it.
A message.
No number.
No name.
Just a location.
And a picture.
Dante opened it.
His face changed.
“What?””
He handed me the phone.
The image showed a small cabin surrounded by trees.
And standing outside it…
Was Elena.
But that wasn’t what scared me.
It was the person standing behind her.
A man.
Holding a gun.
My blood went cold.
Because I knew him.
I had seen him before.
At the mountain.
At the crash.
Marco.
Dante stared at the picture.
“He found her.””
“No,” I whispered.
Dante looked at me.
“What?””
I zoomed in on the image.
My hands started shaking.
“Look at the window.””
He leaned closer.
Inside the cabin, reflected in the glass, was another figure.
Someone taking the photograph.
Someone who wasn’t Marco.
Someone who was much closer.
Dante’s face went completely still.
“Impossible.””
“Who is it?””
He didn’t answer.
Because he recognized the person.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“The person who took this picture…”
May you like
A pause.
“…died ten years ago.””
