24. Dante
DANTE
I t is late evening when I sit down at the table with several other families. Two I know very well and a third I am only meeting for the first time tonight.
Given the nature of the meeting, I'm tense and ready for anything. I'm on high alert as I monitor everything and everyone around me.
Next to me, Lorenzo clears his throat.
We were both carrying our handguns, a precaution we had to take.
"Dante, this is Arman. He has risked his life to come and see us tonight."
I glance towards Arman. If he is who he says he is, then he has taken a massive risk to be here.
"Arman, we appreciate you doing this." I nod towards him, still unsure of him. Lorenzo seems convinced of his trustworthiness - I will need to see action before I believe words. "Is it true that you work for Antonio Musetti?"
Arman nods; he looks like he wants to throw up, but also like he has a certain deadly kind of determination in his eyes that will keep him focused on his goals no matter how fearful he becomes. I can admire that.
"I have worked for him for two years now. It is almost impossible to get a position this close to him because he is a man of many enemies. I worked hard to be in this position."
"Why?" I asked, the distaste of his words clear. "Why would anyone ever aspire to work with a man like that and then brag about how good the position is?"
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Russo. Let me tell you my story - then you will see why."
I nod and lean back in the chair, folding my arms over my chest.
Arman takes a slow, but steady breath, then talks.
"Five years ago, my sister went missing. She worked as a housemaid for a very rich man in Las Vegas. My family lived in Peru, and we were grateful for the money she would send home every month. But one day it stopped. And all communication from her stopped. You understand my sister has always been very close with all of us. She would never just disappear like this." he shifts in his chair. "Weeks went by, then months. I tried to call and write and even hired someone to come to the house to speak to the man who she worked for. But after many attempts to find out what happened to her - the man denied she ever worked for him." Arman pauses, taking a moment to pull his thoughts together.
"You see, something bad happened to my sister in that house. The house of Antonio Musetti. And he denied it all he wanted, but I knew she worked there. I had photos she had sent me from her lunch breaks, photos taken inside his kitchen - in his garden. She was wearing the house uniform the maids still wear today. I came to Las Vegas under a different name and did everything I could until I got a position on his security team. I have been working, biding my time, learning about who he is and what he does - and waiting for someone like you to come along."
He is a man I can trust. I understand that something happened to someone you love. We are in the same boat. I want to take this man down, I just don't have the power or resources."
I nod, my heart breaking for him.
"But you have access," I say.
"Exactly. And from Lorenzo has told me - you need a man inside."
Arman, Lorenzo, and I spend a few hours talking. This man has seen so many things - but he doesn't have concrete evidence that we can use. However, he will get it. I tell him what I think Antonio has been doing, and he says he might be able to get access to the office - but if he does, he will need a safe house to hide in afterward. I promised him that.
After an agreement is made, we all stand up, ready to leave.
I clench my jaw. I don't know if I want the answer to this question, but I can't walk away tonight without asking.
"Arman, did you ever find out what happened to your sister?"
I see his face darken, his eyes half-closing as he tries to swallow the truth.
"I found out months ago. There was a party at the mansion and one guest got rough. He killed my sister. And that man just covered it up as though she was nothing. He hired a new maid to replace her and got rid of any evidence she ever existed."
I sigh. "I am sorry."
"At least I know what happened and my family has peace and closure."
"Why did you stay, even after you found out?"
"Because I am going to kill him," Arman says with deadly honesty. "And if I cannot kill him - I want to take away anything he has ever loved and watch him suffer in pain."
The following night I am on my way to Frankie's apartment. She has asked me to use the underground parking and to come in through a back entrance to avoid being seen.
I pull up the parking brake of my car and slide it into neutral.
She and I have come quite far together since we reentered each other's lives. We grow closer by the day and I am excited to see where it is going to lead. I can't see a future that doesn't have her in it.
I climb the stairs that lead to the first floor and then get into the resident's elevator, avoiding the front foyer and any spying eyes.
I knock on her door and when she opens it, wearing that gorgeous lace summer dress that I love so much with a white apron over it, my lips curve into a wide smile.
"Wow, little fox, you look like you'd make a perfect wife."
She playfully punches my arm as I pull her into a hug, closing the door behind us. "That's rude. You can't say things like that." She laughs.
I tug at the apron. "Alright, what if you were only wearing the apron?"
"Well, if you behave then we can see about that for dessert." She grins, pushing me away and walking towards the kitchen to check on the food.
"It smells incredible - where is the little guy?"
"He's in his room trying to decide what to wear for dinner tonight. I told him you were coming over and he got a little stressed trying to decide. I've never seen him like this. I was helping him, but I had to come see to the food."
"Shall I go offer some help?"
"Sure, just down the hallway -- it's the first room on the left."
I wander through her apartment which is clean, bright, and feminine in a minimalist way. She has excellent taste and the few key pieces she has here and there make the space feel like a home. But, I can see she is living with one foot in the door and one foot out, not really settling. It is probably for fear of her father's actions and what he might do next.
She can't settle or give her son a proper home until that man is out of the picture altogether.
"Little buddy," I say, stepping into Damion's room.
Across the bedroom floor, he has clothes spread out, and he's standing with his hands on his hips staring at them-- stark naked and looking as though this is the biggest decision of his life.
I lean against the door frame and fold my arms across my chest, putting on my best serious face too.
"Mm. You have a lot of choices there." I nod towards the clothes.
"I dunno." He huffs, throwing his hands in the air.
"Well, let's see if we can narrow it down." I crouch on my knees, picking up the Spiderman outfit and a dinosaur onesie.
"I really like both. To be honest - I wish I had a dinosaur costume like this. Where did you get it? Do you think I could borrow it?"
He runs over to me, laughing. He jumps up and grabs the dinosaur onesie from my hand.
"Not fit you. You wear spiman. I am dinasa."
He pushes the Spiderman outfit onto my lap.
"Gosh, you got the best one. Tell you what. I am going to come over and borrow Spiderman one day when I have a party to go to. Is that ok?"
"Yes." He says, but now he is lying flat on the floor trying to get his arms into the sleeves of the dinosaur onesie. I laugh.
"Come on, let me help you." He rolls over, kicking it away from himself. Then gets up and hands it to me, grabbing my knees with his little hands to balance himself then lifting one leg in the air.
From the kitchen, I hear Frankie shouting. "Oh, sorry, please can you put one of his big boy nappies on? I don't want any accidents tonight. He already had a bath."
I pull my mouth tight, searching around the room for a nappy that I have no idea how to put on.
"Top drawer of the baby stand." She calls out again.
I pull the drawer open. "Which one is it, buddy?" I ask, holding up one nappy that looks really complicated and one that looks like a chunky pair of underwear.
He points to the chunky underwear. "The blue one?" I call to Frankie in the kitchen.
"Yes, that's the one."
Damion lifts his little legs into the nappy, then wiggles into the dino suit with my help. When he is done, he jumps up against me and demands to be lifted.
"Hey, little guy. Are you ready for dinner now?" I say, carrying him through to the living room. He rushes about, showing me his toys, bringing them to me one at a time.
I keep staring at him -- at how blue his eyes are and the darkness of his hair. The shape of his mouth and his eyes - he looked just like me when I was a baby. I am convinced that if I held a photo of myself up next to him at the same age, you wouldn't be able to tell us apart.
I noticed it at the park the other day, but now, I am struggling to deny it.
And the timing - he is almost four. He was born about nine months after she left Las Vegas - timed with our night at the gala event.
Should I just ask her? She knows if I am the father or not. She would know who she was with. I don't want to just assume I am the only man she had a wild affair with - but how can I not? Everything lines up too perfectly.
Frankie comes through the living room carrying a large roasted chicken and a bowl of roasted potatoes and veggies. She sets them on the dining table near the window. "You two look like you are having fun." She laughs.
"I am getting the full presentation." I pointed to the toys all lined up in the same order he showed them to me.
She leans down and picks Damion up, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. He grabs her face in his hands and kisses her. You can see how much love there is between them. She is a beautiful mother.
I open my mouth to ask if he is mine but then close it again. Perhaps now is not the time. Perhaps I should wait until we are alone.