Chapter 2 - THE PRICE OF PROTECTION
Dante wouldn't let me return to my apartment.
"I need my things."
"No."
"My laptop is there."
"No."
"My passport—"
"Replace it."
I stared at him inside the back seat of his armored SUV.
"You can't just order me around."
"You're right."
He looked out the window.
"But while Carter has two men inside your apartment, I can strongly suggest that staying alive matters more than your laptop."
I went quiet.
Chicago slid past beyond the bulletproof glass.
After several minutes, I whispered, "Who are the men with him?"
"We're finding out."
"Why would Nolan need men?"
Dante looked at me.
"That's the question."
I had spent two years thinking Nolan was just cruel.
Controlling.
Jealous.
But professional criminals?
That made no sense.
"Maybe they're friends."
"My people watched one of them check the hallway with a suppressed handgun."
My stomach dropped.
"Okay."
Dante leaned back.
"Tell me about Nolan."
"He's a financial consultant."
"For whom?"
"Private clients."
"Names."
"I don't know."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That's not nothing."
He studied me.
"You dated a man for two years and never met one client?"
"He said confidentiality mattered."
"You never wondered?"
"I was too busy wondering what mood he'd be in when he came home."
That shut him up.
For the first time, Dante's expression softened.
Barely.
Then he said, "I'm sorry."
The words surprised me.
"People like you say sorry?"
His eyebrow lifted.
"People like me?"
"Mafia bosses."
A faint smile appeared.
"You kissed me without knowing whether I actually was one?"
"I was desperate."
"Good answer."
The SUV turned through tall iron gates.
A massive stone estate appeared ahead.
"This is your house?"
"One of them."
"Of course."
Security guards opened the front door.
Inside, everything was marble, dark wood, and quiet money.
A woman in her sixties hurried toward us.
"Dante?"
Her eyes shifted to me.
"Who is this?"
"My guest."
She looked at my bruised arm.
Something changed in her face.
"I'm Rosa."
Dante's older sister.
She took my hands.
"You hungry?"
I nearly laughed.
"I don't know."
"That's a yes."
Dante's phone rang.
He answered.
"Talk."
His face changed.
"What did you find?"
Silence.
Then his eyes lifted to mine.
"Send it."
He hung up.
"What?"
Dante opened a message.
A security photograph filled the screen.
Nolan stood outside my apartment building with another man.
Dante zoomed in.
The man's face was scarred along one cheek.
Rosa cursed softly.
I looked between them.
"You know him?"
Dante didn't answer immediately.
"Dante."
"His name is Victor Sayegh."
"Who is he?"
"An accountant."
I almost laughed.
Then I saw Dante's face.
"For what?"
"The Bellini organization."
Everyone in Chicago had heard of the Bellinis.
Dante's oldest rivals.
I stared at the photograph.
"Why would Nolan know their accountant?"
Dante zoomed farther.
Victor was carrying a black folder.
On the cover was a gold logo.
I recognized it.
My heart stopped.
"I've seen that."
Dante turned toward me.
"Where?"
"Nolan keeps documents with that symbol in his office."
Rosa whispered, "Jesus."
Dante stepped closer.
"Claire, listen carefully. Has Nolan ever asked you about Moretti companies?"
"No."
"About my family?"
"No."
"Think."
Then I remembered.
Three months earlier.
Nolan had asked where my company kept backup files for one particular client.
Moretti Shipping.
My employer handled insurance audits.
At the time, I thought it was harmless curiosity.
My face must have changed.
Dante saw it.
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing important."
"What did you tell him, Claire?"
I swallowed.
"Where our off-site archives were stored."
Dante's phone rang again.
His security chief spoke so loudly I could hear him.
"The archive building's on fire."
Dante looked at me.
May you like
Then came the second sentence.
"And Carter was seen leaving it ten minutes ago."
