Chapter 7 - THE TRAITOR
Mercer Vale was Dante’s uncle.
He was also the man who had raised Dante after Antonio died.
Mara watched Dante absorb that information without blinking.
Sometimes shock didn’t look like screaming.
Sometimes it looked like a man becoming completely still.
“That’s impossible,” Gabriel said.
The shooter laughed.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Dante leaned closer.
“What proof?”
“Ask Mercer where he was the night Antonio’s boat blew.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
The shooter continued.
“And ask him why Senator Thorne’s been sending him three hundred grand every year since.”
Gabriel looked sick.
Mara whispered, “Dante.”
He straightened.
“Take him somewhere secure.”
Gabriel nodded.
Outside, Mara followed Dante toward the car.
“What are you going to do?”
“Talk to my uncle.”
“With a gun?”
“If necessary.”
She grabbed his sleeve.
He stopped.
“Dante, listen to me.”
“I am listening.”
“No, you’re waiting for me to stop talking.”
His eyes flickered.
“That’s fair.”
“If Mercer betrayed your father, he’s had twenty years to prepare for you finding out.”
“I know.”
“So don’t walk into his house angry.”
“I’m always angry.”
“Then walk in smart.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“That makes two of us.”
He almost smiled.
Then Mara’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Whitfield?”
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Hayes from St. Matthew’s Hospital.”
Mara’s heart jumped.
“What happened?”
“We have Preston Thorne here.”
Dante heard the name.
“What happened to him?”
“He was brought in with multiple stab wounds.”
Mara stopped breathing.
The doctor continued.
“He asked for you.”
An hour later, Mara stood beside Preston’s hospital bed.
He looked terrible.
Pale.
Bandaged.
Ashamed.
Dante waited outside.
Preston opened his eyes.
“You came.”
“Barely.”
He smiled weakly.
“You always hated hospitals.”
“You remember?”
“I remember everything.”
Mara looked away.
“That didn’t stop you from leaving.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“I was a coward.”
“Yes.”
“I thought marrying Bianca would give me a career.”
“It did.”
“And cost me everything else.”
Mara’s expression hardened.
“Don’t romanticize what you did.”
“I’m not.”
He reached weakly toward the bedside table.
“There’s a flash drive.”
Mara picked it up.
“What is it?”
“Copies from Thorne’s private server.”
“Why do you have them?”
“Because I’ve been collecting evidence for two years.”
Mara stared at him.
“You were going to expose him?”
“I was trying.”
“Who stabbed you?”
Preston looked toward the door.
“Mercer Vale.”
Mara’s blood went cold.
“He came personally?”
“No.”
Preston coughed.
“But I heard the man who did it make a call.”
“To Mercer?”
Preston shook his head.
“To Bianca.”
Mara stared at him.
“No.”
“She knew.”
“About what?”
Preston’s eyes filled with fear.
“Everything.”
May you like
The door opened behind Mara.
Bianca stood there holding a gun.
