Chapter Four: The Enemy Arrives
Dante improved slowly.
Too slowly for Elena’s liking.
His vitals stabilized. His infections cleared. But he was weak. Fragile. A man who’d once commanded armies reduced to bedpans and bland hospital food.
He hated it.
She could see it in the way his jaw clenched every time a nurse adjusted his pillows. The way his eyes tracked every person who entered the room.
He was still calculating. Still strategizing.
Still dangerous.
On the fifth day, Elena found a stranger in Dante’s room.
Tall. Blonde. Expensive suit. Standing at the foot of the bed like he owned it.
“Who are you?” Elena demanded.
The man turned. Smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“Dr. Vance. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I doubt that. Dante doesn’t talk about me.”
The man’s smile widened. “No. He doesn’t. But other people do.”
Dante shifted in the bed. His voice was weak but sharp. “Get out, Marcus.”
“I don’t think I will.” Marcus pulled a chair closer to the bed. Sat down. Crossed his legs. “Your girlfriend and I have things to discuss.”
Elena stepped between them. “He’s my patient. Not my boyfriend. And you need to leave before I call security.”
Marcus laughed. “Security. That’s cute.”
He reached into his jacket.
Elena’s hand went to the panic button on the wall.
Marcus pulled out a phone. Not a gun.
“Relax, Doctor. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m here to make a deal.”
Dante tried to sit up. Failed. His face went pale.
“Don’t,” he said. “Elena, don’t listen to him.”
Marcus held up the phone. A video started playing.
Elena’s brother. Walking out of his apartment building. Getting into his car.
The video was dated today.
“Your brother’s a firefighter, right?” Marcus said casually. “Brave man. Dangerous job. Shame if something happened to him.”
Elena’s blood turned to ice.
“What do you want?”
“The USB drive.” Marcus pocketed his phone. “The one Dante gave you. I want it. And I want you to forget you ever saw it.”
“And if I refuse?”
Marcus stood up. Smoothed his jacket.
“Then your brother dies. Then your parents die. Then every single person you’ve ever loved dies, one by one, until you give me what I want.”
He walked to the door. Paused.
“You have 48 hours, Dr. Vance. Choose wisely.”
He left.
Elena stood frozen.
Dante’s voice was barely a whisper. “Elena. Look at me.”
She turned.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried to protect you. I tried to keep you out of this. But they found you anyway.”
“Who are they?”
“The people I’ve been fighting for twenty years. The people who killed my father. Who killed my wife.”
Elena blinked. “Your wife?”
Dante’s expression shuttered. “Before you. A long time before you. She died because of who I was. Because of what I did.”
He looked away.
“I couldn’t let that happen to you. So I left. I thought distance would keep you safe.”
“It didn’t.”
“No.” His voice broke. “It didn’t.”
Elena walked to the bed. Sat down on the edge.
She took his hand.
“Tell me everything,” she said. “From the beginning. No more secrets. No more lies to protect me.”
Dante looked at their intertwined fingers.
“If I tell you,” he said, “there’s no going back. You’ll be in this. Really in this.”
“I’m already in this.” Elena squeezed his hand. “I have been since the moment you left that stupid note on my kitchen table.”
Dante closed his eyes.
And then he started talking.