39. Sara
Sara
Dante’s arm cinches around my waist, knocking me into my brother, and the three of us crash to the ground. Not a heartbeat later, after the pop of a gun, Enzo’s head explodes above us, blood and brain matter painting the cement walls and splattering our clothes.
“What the fuck!” Jeremy squirms away, backpedaling from the gore, his eyes too wide for his face. “What the fuck…what the fuck!”
“Speak to me piccola tesoro.” Dante threads his fingers through my hair, and his breath fans my lips. “Tell me you’re not hurt.”
Grabbing his hands, I press my forehead against his. Between us, our racing hearts ring loud. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Everyone all right?” The man I barreled past on the stairwell enters, leading with his gun.
Not a single hair out of place, as if blowing people’s heads off is just another typical day at the office.
He’s the guy who led me to the basement after I ran into SilverTech, like he knew exactly who I was searching for.
Dante swings his head toward the man before pressing a firm kiss to my lips and rising to his feet, his fingers twitching on his weapon like he’s not sure whether to draw or stand down.
Jeremy’s voice breaks through the tense silence. “No! We are not all right!” I manage to shut him up before he attracts further attention.
“Why’d you shoot, Patrick?” Dante positions himself between us and the threat. “I had everything under control.”
“You wanted him dead, didn’t you?” I heave a sigh of relief when Patrick finally lowers his weapon and remove my hand from Jeremy’s mouth.
“I couldn’t tell. You two were chatting like two old hens at a Sunday brunch.
” His pause drips with malevolent intent.
“What did that Conti son of a bitch have to say, huh? Surely nothing quite as interesting as our visitor here.”
My relief is short-lived when Patrick points his gun straight at me.
Using my body as a shield, I cover Jeremy while the air arrests in my lungs.
I prepare myself to suffer the same fate as the faceless man on the floor.
Dante cranes his neck, and I’m terrified that his undiluted fear will be the last thing I ever see.
Quicker than I can follow, Dante lifts his arm and fires a single shot. I scream as Patrick keels forward onto the cement, the bullet lodged in his forehead visible for a second before he smacks face-first onto the ground.
Dante’s at my side before the first echo of the shot finishes reverberating through the room. As he reaches his hand down to me, Jeremy lets out a pained whine and rushes over to a janitor’s bucket, losing the contents of his stomach. Not that I’m judging. My brother did just witness two murders.
Maybe I can get a two-for-one deal in therapy.
Dante helps me to my feet while Jeremy works to compose himself.
“We’re in the basement, so I doubt anyone heard anything, but we only have a few minutes before someone starts wondering where this piece of shit wandered off to.
” Though his touch is gentle, my stomach drops at the look in his eyes.
He’s pissed. “You want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here? ”
I extract my arm and lift my chin in defiance. “I told you I was coming.”
“And I told you to trust me. You could have been killed, tesoro.”
My chest pinches over his agonized tone, but my emotional bank is already overloaded.
Mostly recovered, Jeremy gets shakily to his feet and comes over to stand next to me, careful not to glance at either of the bodies nearby. I rub soothing circles on his back, body boundaries be damned, and he lets me.
“Angela.” The ache in my chest intensifies as I recount her treason.
“She was the mole the entire time. She was one of the nurses on duty the night Jackson supposedly died of internal bleeding. She was the one who led me through the house the night of the attack, straight into the arms of the Council’s soldiers.
The Council’s been orchestrating everything, with Angela serving as their loyal servant. ”
Dante’s face flushes with fury, and he pivots, driving his fist into the nearest wall. “I should have killed that bitch months ago.”
“Angela?” Still pale, Jeremy digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, struggling to process everything he’s seen and heard. “You mean your friend from the hospital? What’s she got to do with any of this?”
Even though the whole story should be shared over chips, salsa, and infinite margaritas, my brother deserves the truth.
So, I give Jeremy an abridged rundown. I tell him about Dante, the kidnapping, the townhouse.
By the time I finish, he’s staring up at me in disbelief.
“You’ve been on the Upper East Side this entire time?
And my boss is in the mafia? Are you serious? ”
I give him a wincing smile and spread my hands as if to say, “Look around.” Jeremy blows out a sharp breath, his eyes darting from me to Dante. “I need to sit down for a minute.”
He slides down the wall and clutches his head in his hands, murmuring to himself. The urge to reassure him is so strong I can taste it, but I hold my tongue. He’s twenty-two now. He can handle himself.
And a sibling discount for therapy sessions won’t go amiss.
I turn to Dante. “You said we don’t have much time. So, what do we do?”
“Gregor is on his way with backup, and Luca is probably in position in the building across the street just in case we need the extra cover.” He hesitates, and it’s the only time I’ve ever seen him unsure of himself. “After that, once we get out of here, I was thinking we run.”
My heart skips a beat. He’s not just talking about running from the building. He means leaving his entire life behind and beginning anew in a place where no one recognizes our names.
Dante squares his shoulders and prepares to convince me. “This is the Council, Sara. Fleeing is the only way we get out of this alive.”
I squeeze his hand. “But your people and your business…your family.” I blink back tears.
How can I let him abandon everything he’s built, everything he is, just for me?
Jeremy and I don’t have the same ties, but we have one another.
Dante’s different. “I don’t want you throwing your life away for me. ”
I don’t want you hating me one day, once you realize all you’ve given up.
I don’t utter this aloud, but maybe he can read my thoughts because he tenderly cups my cheek. “You are my life. I love you, Sara. And I’m not giving you up for anything, not even the Code.”
Tears blur my vision and spill over as Dante pulls me into his chest, cradling my head.
I’ve waited to hear those words for so long that even though this is the second time he’s said them, they still nearly break me.
A combination of relief and joy bubbles inside me, infusing my body with so much warmth and brightness that I feel like I swallowed sunlight.
“I love you too.” The words muffle against his shirt, but his sigh tells me he heard them.
After a long, quiet moment, I pull back and wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand.
Jeremy clears his throat, and I flash him an awkward smile.
“What do you say, widget?” So much of his life has been out of his control already.
If he goes, it’ll be his choice. “You want to try for another fresh start?”
Doubt and hesitation lurk in his eyes. He’s been happy since our return to New York and his job means everything to him. Now he has to give it up? So unfair, but there must be a way to ease the loss, something—
Dante interjects. “I built this company up from nothing. If you’re interested, maybe you can help me get my next venture off the ground.”
Jeremy jumps to his feet, his face more excited than the time he opened his first Xbox. “Are you kidding? Yeah, that would be—” His Adam’s apple bobs. “That would be great.”
Grinning, Dante pivots to me, one brow lifted high. “You heard him. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
I grasp Dante’s hand. “Thank you.”
He plants a kiss on my temple.
Keeping my hand tightly in his, Dante kicks Enzo’s gun away from his body. I grab it and slip it beneath the back of my shirt while Jeremy watches with no small amount of fascination.
“You two go up first.” Dante checks the bullets in his chamber and uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe blood from my cheek. “Head straight for my car. Don’t look at anyone or stop for anything.”
He slips his keys into my jean pocket, and my heart races with a mix of trepidation and traitorous excitement.
I’ve been through worse. If I have Dante with me, I’ll survive this too.
I have to believe that. I have to because anything other than belief is a recipe for a panic attack.
Together, Jeremy and I climb up the stairs, leaving the basement behind. People still swarm the lobby. As we march toward the front door, too many heads swivel toward us.
“Don’t look at them.” Patting Jeremy’s arm, I smile as if the two of us are just having a regular conversation. “Pretend like this is any other day at the office.”
The front doors of SilverTech are tantalizingly close when a voice rings out across the lobby. “Where do you two think you’re going?”
Acute terror swallows my confidence in a single gulp, and I fumble for Jeremy’s hand. A figure hovers on the second floor, peering down at us from over the glass banister. He’s wearing a horrific mask with a long curved nose. His terrible gaze crawls over me, and I stumble backward into my brother.
This must be one of the Councilors Dante told me about.
“Our business is done here.” Dante is only a few paces behind us now, but he pauses without facing the man in the mask.
“You all must return to Paradiso, Dante. The others expect a debriefing regarding the traitor.”
“No need for a debrief.” Dante’s clenched jaw betrays his simmering hatred. “The ‘traitor’ is dead. What else is there to say?”
A low murmur ripples through the crowd as the stranger stares down a comically long nose. As Dante approaches, I clutch his hand, still holding Jeremy’s with the other.
“I must say, you’re starting to piss me off, Argento.” The masked man trails his fingers along the balcony as he heads for the stairs.
“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.” Dante pulls out his phone and presses a button. Gregor picks up after one ring, his voice like gravel over the speaker.
“Yes, sir?”
“Is everyone in position?” Dante doesn’t tear his eyes away from the man in the mask.
“Just waiting for your orders.”
“Stand down for now.” Dante keeps his command casual, like we’re the ones with the upper hand instead of surrounded by danger. “After all, we wouldn’t want to draw any unnecessary awareness over something this small.”
To anyone watching or listening, it might not seem like much, but I know Dante well enough to recognize the danger. Gregor is here with backup, so if anyone acts against us, this could devolve into an all-out war.
We’re not on a pier in the middle of the night cloaked by a dense fog.
We’re in an office building in downtown Staten Island, just a few blocks from the ferry and the subway station.
If the Council values secrecy so much, they won’t risk bringing any undue attention.
Not when they went out of their way to kill Enzo for threatening to do just that.
With just a few words, Dante is drawing a line in the sand.
Either the Council breaks its own strict rules, or they back off and let us go.
As Dante ends the call, spittle flies from the man at the railing’s mouth. “You think I care about that?”
I stiffen, my iron grip on Jeremy’s hand causing him to mutter under his breath. Is this Councilor willing to brawl here and now just to put the three of us down? The fallout would be nearly impossible to contain.
Dante tsks. “Of course not. But it’s strange, isn’t it?
Isn’t secrecy one of your biggest rules?
It almost sounds like you’re threatening to break the Code.
Which can’t be right.” Lifting his hand, Dante mimics a pistol with his fingers.
He tracks an invisible target, a gesture mirrored by the crimson bead of a scope blooming in the center of the man’s mask.
“Because we all know what happens to Codebreakers.”
The Councilor goes painfully still before tossing his head back and barking a stuttering, empty laugh that’s reminiscent of a scratched record. A chill travels down my spine.
“Let’s go.” Dante tugs my hand.
Together, we urge Jeremy out of the building, and only once the sun warms my face does a delirious, adrenaline-fueled cackle escape me. The morning air dries the cold sweat coating my skin, and giddy relief leaves me dizzy as I stumble into Dante’s passenger seat.
Dante peels off into traffic, and we race back to the townhouse in record time. We only have a few minutes to grab Pistol and a few necessities. Tension weighs in the air, but we’re all too consumed by stress to break the silence.
As soon as we arrive, Dante hops the curb, slamming the car into park and ignoring an irate jogger who’s forced to dodge us. For the first time, my happily ever after is within reach.
It’s so close, and I’m terrified because, with every second that passes, I feel like reality will soon come crashing back down and destroy the hope blossoming within me.
I choke down a surge of emotion and shift toward Jeremy in the back seat. “Stay here. We’ll be right back.”
At his nod, Dante and I jump out and sprint for the front door. I don’t have much to bring with me, but I want to scribble a note for someone to release Angela.
At the threshold of the house, Dante halts abruptly, and I curse as my nose collides with his back.
“What…?”
An older gentleman with a cane waits for us in the foyer. His guarded eyes flick from me to Dante, and though we’ve never met, I recognize him as Dante’s father from the arrogant head tilt and the familiar slope of his nose.
He raps his cane sharply on the marble floor in a show of disapproval. “You need to fire whoever trained your guard dog.”