Chapter 3 - Dante’s Brother Had Been Standing Beside Him All Along

Stefano Rosselli arrived before I could leave.

I knew who he was because the restaurant changed around him in a different way.

Dante made people quieter.

Stefano made them alert.

He was younger by maybe six years, leaner, with the polished charm of someone who enjoyed being underestimated. His suit was dark blue. No tie. His smile arrived before he reached the table.

Then Leo saw him and turned away.

That detail lodged in my mind.

“Dante,” Stefano said. “You disappeared from the meeting.”

His gaze found me.

It stayed too long.

“Well.”

I felt my shoulders tighten.

Dante said, “This is Alina Valdez.”

The smile vanished.

Not fully.

Enough.

“Valdez?”

“Yes.”

Stefano looked at my necklace.

Then my face.

For one terrible second, recognition crossed his expression.

He recovered quickly.

“Any relation to Marisol?”

I answered before Dante could.

“She’s my mother.”

Stefano’s smile returned.

“How extraordinary.”

No.

Not extraordinary.

Expected.

I could feel it.

“You knew her.”

“Years ago.”

“How many?”

“Your mother was around occasionally.”

“Dante says he’s been looking for her.”

Stefano glanced at his brother.

“I know.”

“Have you?”

“Of course.”

The answer was too smooth.

Dante watched him.

I wondered whether the brothers had always distrusted each other or whether tonight had changed something.

Stefano reached toward Leo.

“Come here, little man.”

Leo buried his face against Dante.

Stefano laughed.

“Still angry with me.”

“Why would he be angry?” I asked.

Stefano looked at me.

“Babies have moods.”

Dante’s hand settled against Leo’s back.

“Elena didn’t like him holding Leo after arguments.”

Stefano’s jaw tightened.

“That is a strange thing to tell a stranger.”

“She isn’t a stranger anymore.”

I looked at Dante.

I did not like the implication.

Whatever blood or history connected our families, I had not agreed to belong to anyone.

Stefano looked at the photograph still on the table.

Marisol and Elena.

His expression changed again.

“Where did that come from?”

“Carrillo kept it,” Dante said.

“Why?”

“Sentiment, apparently.”

Stefano’s eyes moved toward the service corridor.

Carrillo was nowhere visible.

That worried me.

I picked up the photograph.

“I’m leaving.”

Dante stood.

“I’ll have someone take you home.”

“No.”

“You may be in danger.”

“I was apparently in danger before I walked in here.”

“That does not improve because you refuse protection.”

“It also doesn’t improve if the protection has dragon tattoos.”

Stefano laughed.

Dante did not.

“Fair.”

That answer stopped me.

He took out a business card.

No title.

Just a number.

“If you see anyone near your apartment, call.”

“I have police.”

“Your mother has been missing eight months. How helpful were they?”

Cruel.

Accurate.

My anger shifted.

“I reported her.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“I asked.”

“You investigated me?”

“After Marisol disappeared.”

“Why?”

“Because Elena begged me to find her.”

That hurt.

My aunt had known I existed.

Maybe.

I needed to know.

“Did Elena know about me?”

Dante’s face softened.

“Yes.”

My throat tightened.

“How much?”

“She had photographs.”

“From where?”

“Marisol sent them over the years.”

The floor seemed unreliable.

My mother had not merely hidden a sister.

She maintained contact.

Secretly.

“She lied to me every day.”

“Maybe.”

I glared.

“Don’t defend her.”

“I’m not.”

Stefano watched us too closely.

I turned toward him.

“What did Elena find?”

He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“The missing money.”

Dante’s expression hardened.

Stefano looked at his brother.

“You told her about the message?”

“Yes.”

“That was stupid.”

The word fell between them.

One of the bodyguards shifted.

Dante became perfectly still.

“Why?”

“Because this has nothing to do with her.”

“My mother is missing.”

Stefano looked at me.

“And I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His eyes cooled.

I had finally irritated him enough to remove the charm.

“You don’t know what Elena was involved in.”

“Then explain.”

“She became convinced someone was stealing from Rosselli Maritime.”

“Was someone?”

“Large companies have discrepancies.”

Dante said, “Eighteen million dollars.”

Stefano’s jaw tightened.

I looked between them.

“Missing?”

“Redirected,” Dante said.

“Through charities and subcontractors.”

Stefano snapped, “We do not discuss internal finances in a restaurant.”

Dante’s voice went quieter.

“We are not discussing them. We are discussing why Elena is dead.”

The entire table froze.

Stefano stared.

“You think I killed her?”

“I think she named the dragon closest to me.”

“That could mean anyone.”

“Only three men in senior leadership carry the old dragon mark.”

Dante’s collar shifted slightly.

Black ink.

Stefano had one too.

The third?

I looked at the bodyguards.

Neither.

Stefano leaned forward.

“You are grieving. Don’t become stupid.”

Dante smiled without warmth.

“You should leave.”

For a second I thought Stefano might refuse.

Then he straightened.

He looked at me.

“Alina, your mother kept you away from this family for a reason.”

Something in his tone sounded less like advice.

More like warning.

“I suggest you respect her choice.”

He walked out.

Leo watched him go.

Then began crying.

Dante sat again.

I remained standing.

“Who is the third dragon?”

He answered.

“My chief financial officer.”

“Name?”

“Gabriel Moretti.”

“And where is he?”

Dante looked toward the empty seat at the far end of the table.

“He was supposed to be here tonight.”

My skin prickled.

“He didn’t come?”

“No.”

Dante checked his phone.

A new message had arrived.

He read it.

Then looked at me.

“What?”

He turned the screen.

A photograph filled it.

My apartment door.

Taken from the hallway.

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Underneath were seven words.

SHE LOOKS TOO MUCH LIKE HER AUNT.