Chapter 10: The Inside Man

“And what about you?” I challenged, pushing the envelope back across the table.

“I will keep doing exactly what I have been doing,” Dante said blankly. “Managing Salvatore’s businesses. Keeping my mother safe. Existing.”

“That is not living,” I shot back. “That is a slow, agonizing death.”

“It is the only option I have,” Dante sighed.

I leaned forward, completely ignoring the sharp protest of my cracked ribs. “You are actively choosing to stay trapped. You are choosing to let your uncle control you.”

“To protect my mother!”

“There are other ways to protect her!” I argued passionately. “Better ways than bowing to a monster who is blackmailing you!”

“Like what?” Dante scoffed, frustration bleeding into his tone. “If I move against Salvatore, he kills her. If I run, he kills her. If I do anything except exactly what he dictates, she dies.”

“Then we find a way to get her out,” I stated firmly.

The word we hung in the air between us, heavy with profound implication.

Dante shook his head slowly. “There is no ‘we,’ Claire. You are leaving.”

“Stop telling me what to do!” I snapped. “I am not some helpless damsel you need to rescue. I beat Leonardo, remember? I survived your uncle. I can handle myself.”

“This isn’t about fighting in a ring!” Dante argued. “This is about survival. Salvatore does not fight fair. He does not give second chances.”

“Then we make sure there isn’t a second chance,” I insisted. “We find a way to get your mother out from under his control.”

Dante stared at me across the small table, clearly torn between his deep desire to protect me and the desperate hope I was offering him.

“Why are you doing this?” Dante asked quietly. “After everything I have put you through, why would you want to help me?”

I stopped, the words catching in my dry throat. “Because you were right. What we have is real. I feel it, too. And I am not walking away from something real just because it’s difficult.”

A small, genuine smile touched Dante’s lips—the first real smile I had seen from him in days. “You are completely insane.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “But I am also right.”

He reached across the table, his hand resting palm up. An offering. A terrifying question.

I placed my bruised hand firmly in his.

“If we do this,” Dante warned seriously, “there is absolutely no going back. Salvatore will come after us with everything he has. We will be making an enemy of the most powerful man in the city.”

“Then we better be smart about it,” I replied without hesitation.

“We need leverage,” Dante calculated, his mind already shifting into tactical mode. “Information. Concrete proof of his illegal activities that could bring down his entire organization if it went public.”

“Do you have access to that?”

“No,” Dante admitted. “He keeps that locked down tight. Only his inner circle has access.”

“Then we get someone from his inner circle to help us,” I suggested. “What about someone who is already being forced to do things they don’t want to do? Someone else he is actively blackmailing.”

Dante’s dark eyes suddenly widened with realization.

“Antonio,” Dante breathed. “Salvatore’s chief accountant. He has been skimming money from the organization for years to pay for his young daughter’s leukemia treatments.”

“Salvatore knows about it?”

“Yes. He uses it to keep Antonio terrified and perfectly in line,” Dante explained. “If we could protect his daughter—get her the treatment she needs without Salvatore’s dirty money—Antonio might give us the ledgers.”

“Does he have proof?”

“If he is smart, he has kept meticulous records,” Dante nodded. “Insurance, in case Salvatore ever decides he is disposable.”

“Then that is exactly where we start.”

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