Elena #2
Elena held his gaze. “Then that’s good enough for me. Call him,” she breathed.
Dante picked up his cell phone and called Luca. He answered immediately. “What do you have for me?” Luca asked.
“We identified the rings,” Dante said.
“What rings?” Luca asked.
“In the photographs, each man is wearing a ring.” Dante put the phone on speaker and pushed one of the images toward the center of the island. “Four men. Four rings.”
“What about the rings?” Luca asked.
“One of the rings has the Romano crest on it. One appears to belong to Hale’s family crest, and another is Vale’s crest,” Dante explained.
Luca was quiet. “And the fourth?”
Dante looked at Elena. “It has the Camorra crest on it.” Luca said nothing. He gave no reaction, but also no denial—just silence. “The ring is on the finger of the man with his head cut out of the photo.”
Dante’s expression hardened. “Luca.”
“I need to see it,” Luca said.
“I’m sending it over now.” Dante snapped a picture and sent it to Luca. A few seconds passed, and then Luca swore.
Elena’s stomach twisted. “You recognize it,” Dante said.
“Yes,” Luca said.
“Whose ring do you think it is?” Dante asked.
“It’s my grandfather’s ring,” Luca almost whispered.
Elena stopped breathing. It wasn’t Luca’s father, but his grandfather. Dante looked as surprised as she felt. “That picture is twenty-seven years old,” Dante reminded.
“I know,” Luca said.
“How old would your grandfather have been back then?” Dante asked.
“He would have been around sixty-three,” Luca said.
“Could it be him?” Dante asked.
“Yes.” Elena wrapped her arms around herself. Four families and one empire—something created before she was born. Something important enough that her father had spent the rest of his life hiding pieces of it.
“Luca,” she said.
“I'm here,” he finally breathed.
“Did your grandfather know my father?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Luca said.
“That's bullshit,” Elena shouted. Dante shot her a look, but she ignored him. “My father is standing beside a man wearing your family’s ring. Don't tell me nobody knew about it.”
“I said I didn't know,” Luca said. That stopped her, allowing Luca to continue. “My grandfather died when I was sixteen. My father never talked about his business beyond what I needed to know.”
Dante frowned. “That's unusual.”
“Yes, it was,” Luca agreed.
“Why do you think he did that?” Dante asked.
“I always assumed it was because my grandfather handled the old alliances differently than my father,” Luca said.
Elena looked at Dante. “Old alliances.”
Dante caught it too. “What alliances?” he asked.
“I don't know,” Luca said. “That’s what my father called them whenever I’d ask. He said that his father had a certain way that he handled the family’s alliances, and they didn’t match up with my father’s ways. I knew not to ask many questions, so I didn’t.”
“Find out what alliances your grandfather handled,” Dante ordered.
“I will,” Luca agreed. “I’ll be in touch when I know more,” he promised, ending the call.
Elena stared at the phone. “Your families are terrible at communication.”
Dante almost smiled. “So is yours,” he countered.
“That’s a fair assessment,” she said. “In fact, my family’s secrets might just trump all of yours.” His phone buzzed again with a message. Dante read it and then frowned. “What now?” she asked.
“It’s from Marco,” he said. Holding up his phone so she could see the message.
Found Vale. Call me.
Dante called immediately, and Marco answered on the first ring.
“You alone?” Marco asked.
Dante snorted and glanced at Elena. “No, I’m with Elena.”
“Good,” Marco breathed.
“Where’s Vale?” Dante asked, getting right to business.
“That's complicated,” Marco said.
“Everything is fucking complicated. Where is he?” Dante growled.
“He’s in St. Matthew’s Cemetery,” Marco said. Elena frowned.
Dante sighed. “What the hell is he doing there?”
“Nothing,” Marco said. “He's buried there.”
Elena's stomach sank. “What?”
“Dr. Stephen Vale died four days ago and was buried yesterday morning,” Marco said.
Dante went completely still. “How did he die?”
“Car accident.” Elena closed her eyes. Of course it was a car accident. The man who had signed Hale's questionable death certificate had died the day before her entire life had blown up.
“Do you think it was an accident?” Dante asked.
“I don't believe in those anymore,” Marco said.
“Neither do I. When was he buried?” Dante asked.
“Nine forty-two yesterday morning,” Marco said.
“That was before Elena’s storage unit was accessed,” Dante said.
“Yes, it was,” Marco agreed.
“Anything unusual about his death?” Dante asked.
“His car went off a bridge.”
“Was the body recovered?” Dante asked.
“Yes,” Marco said. According to the newspaper clipping, his viewing was open casket.
Elena opened her eyes. “Marco?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Was he wearing a ring?” she asked.
Marco asked, “What kind of ring?” Elena described the one in the photograph and was met with more silence, followed by keyboard clicks on the other end of the call.
“I was able to pull up the coroner's property report,” he said.
Her pulse accelerated. “And?”
“No ring,” Marco said.
Dante's expression hardened. “Could have lost it in the crash.”
“Could have,” Marco said. Nobody seemed to believe that, though.
“Find out who claimed his personal effects,” Dante ordered.
“Already doing it,” Marco said.
“And Marco?” Dante added.
“Yeah?”
“Dig into all four families from twenty-seven years back.”
“All four?” he asked.
“Camorra, Romano, Hale, and Vale.” Elena stared at the photographs of the four families. She just wondered if they had become one empire, sealed in blood.
Marco whistled softly. “This is getting ugly.”
“It started ugly; it’s just going downhill from there,” Dante said. “Talk soon.” He disconnected the call.
Elena paced toward the window as she wondered if her entire life had been a complete lie. She pressed her fingertips against the cool glass. “What if my father wasn't trying to protect me from this?”
Dante came up behind her. “From what?”
She turned. “What if he was trying to protect this from me?”
His brow furrowed. “I’m not following,” he said.
“Crimson Holdings became mine legally when I turned twenty-five,” she said.
“Yes.”
“But someone forged the transfer,” Elena said.
“Okay,” he said.
“So maybe they didn't want me to know I owned it.” Dante’s eyes sharpened on her, but she kept going. “My father was administrator until then. Maybe that wasn't because he was protecting me.”
“Elena,” Dante breathed.
“Maybe he was protecting the company,” she said.
“From you?” he asked.
“Why not?” She shrugged as though her theory didn’t bother her, but it did.
“Because you're his daughter.”
“That doesn't mean anything in families like ours, and you know it,” she said. Dante didn't argue. She looked back at the photograph. “What if the trust wasn't a gift?”
“What else would it be?” he asked. She thought about the words.
Four families. One empire.
And then, it clicked. It wasn’t a gift or an inheritance.
“It’s collateral,” she said.
Dante froze. “What?”
“My father used to talk about collateral when I was young. He wasn’t talking about money, but about people.”
“Elena—” Dante said, her name sounding like a warning.
“What if I was collateral?” she asked.
His face darkened. “No, you don't know that for sure.”
“No, but I might be right, and it’s worth looking into.”
“No.” He crossed the room. “No fucking way.”
“Why are you angry with me?” she asked.
“I'm not angry with you,” he insisted.
Elena barked out her laugh. “Could've fooled me,” she said.
He stopped in front of her. “Fine, it’s because you're talking about yourself like you’re property.”
“Maybe I was property to my father,” she said.
“Not anymore.” The certainty in his voice shook her. “You can't change what happened twenty-seven years ago.” His hand came up and touched her jaw. “But I can damn sure change what happens now.”
She looked at him, and the intensity in his eyes stole her breath. “Dante—”
“You aren’t anyone’s property, Elena. You belong to no one,” he insisted. His thumb brushed her cheek. “Not to the trust or family. No fucking empire gets to decide what happens to you.”
Her chest tightened. “And what about you?”
His gaze changed. “What about me?”
“You keep deciding what happens to me.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “That's different.”
She laughed. “You're unbelievable.”
“I keep hearing that.” His hand slid behind her neck, and she knew he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to. He leaned in, and her phone rang. Dante closed his eyes, and Elena laughed.
“Now you know how it feels,” she said.
“I'm destroying every phone in this house,” he grumbled. She pulled hers from the counter and saw that it said, “Unknown number” on the screen. Her laughter disappeared.
Dante looked over her shoulder. “Don't answer.”
She looked at him. “You literally just said no one gets to decide what I do. That lasted a whole thirty seconds.” Despite herself, she smiled, and the phone rang again, and it said the same thing—unknown number.
Dante held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
“No,” Elena hissed, holding the phone to her chest.
“Elena,” he growled.