Chapter 2 - THE VOICE IN THE GARDEN
Dante cleared the house in nine minutes.
Women and children were sent home with drivers.
The gates were locked.
Phones were collected.
Armed men took positions near every entrance.
Nobody argued.
Not when Dante Romano looked the way he did.
Javier sat in a dining chair with his wrists zip-tied behind his back.
Marco stood beside the window.
Leo sat close to his father.
Dante placed Elena’s recorder on the table.
“Leo,” Dante said, “tell me exactly what happened.”
“I went to get my baseball.”
“From the shed?”
Leo nodded.
“It rolled behind the bags of dirt. There was a loose board.”
Dante knew the shed.
Elena had loved that little place.
She grew tomatoes nobody ate and herbs nobody could identify.
After she died, Dante had locked it.
He couldn’t stand the smell of the soil.
Rosemary.
Her perfume.
Memories.
“How’d you get inside?”
Leo looked guilty.
“The key is still under the frog.”
Marco almost smiled.
Dante didn’t.
Of course it was.
Elena had hidden the shed key beneath a ceramic frog for years.
“I moved the board,” Leo continued. “The recorder was underneath. Wrapped in plastic.”
“And then?”
“I pushed the button.”
Javier stared at the floor.
“I heard voices outside.”
“His voice?” Dante asked.
Leo pointed toward Javier.
“And another guy.”
Dante pressed PLAY.
Static came first.
Then Leo breathing.
Footsteps.
A door closing somewhere outside.
Then Javier’s voice.
Clear enough.
“Tonight. No mistakes.”
A second voice answered.
“You sure about the kid?”
Dante stopped breathing.
Javier looked up.
Marco moved away from the window.
The recording continued.
Javier said, “Nobody touches the boy unless Dante makes it difficult.”
The other man laughed.
“Dante makes everything difficult.”
“Make the gas leak look clean. Kitchen line. After dinner.”
Dante’s eyes went cold.
Marco whispered, “Jesus.”
On the recording, Javier said, “Once Dante is gone, the old man takes control again.”
The other voice asked, “And Marco?”
A pause.
“Depends which side he picks.”
Dante pressed STOP.
No one spoke.
Leo looked confused.
“Dad?”
Dante turned.
“Go upstairs.”
“I wanna stay.”
“Leo.”
“I found it.”
“I know.”
“And he tried to hurt me because of it.”
Dante looked at his son for a long moment.
The boy had Elena’s stubbornness.
Same chin.
Same eyes when somebody tried to keep the truth from him.
Dante exhaled.
“Sit next to Marco.”
Leo moved.
Dante crossed the room.
He stopped in front of Javier.
“Who was the other man?”
Javier said nothing.
Dante slapped him.
Not hard.
Almost casual.
“Who?”
“Go to hell.”
Dante hit him again.
“You planned to kill me in my own house.”
Javier spat blood onto the floor.
“You think this started today?”
The room changed.
Dante leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
Javier smiled.
It was ugly.
Tired.
Almost sad.
“You built a kingdom and never once looked underneath it.”
Dante grabbed his shirt.
“Talk.”
Javier’s eyes moved toward the recorder.
“You wanna know the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Play the old files.”
Dante released him.
Marco stepped toward the table.
“There are ten.”
Javier laughed softly.
“One is all you need.”
“Which one?”
Javier looked at Leo.
“Ask his mother.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“You say her name again, I’ll—”
“File seven.”
Dante froze.
Javier nodded toward the recorder.
“Play file seven.”
Dante returned to the table.
His hand shook once.
Only once.
He selected the recording.
The date appeared on the tiny screen.
October 18.
Two years earlier.
The night before Elena died.
He pressed PLAY.
For several seconds there was only silence.
Then Elena’s voice filled the room.
“Dante, if you’re hearing this, something has already gone very wrong.”
Leo made a tiny sound.
“Mom?”
Dante gripped the edge of the table.
Elena continued.
“I found the books Javier has been hiding.”
Javier stared at his shoes.
“They’re moving money through Romano Transport. Millions. But that isn’t the worst part.”
Dante looked up slowly.
Elena’s voice trembled.
“They’re using your trucks for shipments you never approved.”
Marco stepped closer.
“What shipments?”
The recording answered him.
“Drugs. Guns. People.”
Marco cursed under his breath.
Elena continued.
“I confronted Marco.”
Dante turned toward his brother.
Marco raised both hands.
“Keep listening.”
“He tried to warn me before I understood what I was looking at,” Elena said. “I didn’t believe him.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
Then Elena said the words that changed everything.
“Marco isn’t the one betraying you.”
A long pause.
“The orders are coming from your father.”
Dante stopped the recording.
Nobody moved.
Salvatore Romano.
Dante’s father.
Retired boss.
Family patriarch.
The man who had taught Dante how to drive.
How to fight.
How to recognize a liar.
The man who had kissed Elena’s forehead inside her coffin.
“No,” Dante said.
Javier gave a humorless laugh.
Dante turned.
Javier’s voice was barely above a whisper.
May you like
“You still think Elena’s car crash was an accident?”
The lights went out.
