Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO SOLD MY NAME
I didn’t sleep.
At four in the morning, I was standing in Dante’s kitchen drinking coffee when he walked in.
“You should be resting.”
“You should stop appearing behind people like a serial killer.”
“This is my kitchen.”
“Then put a bell around your neck.”
He poured coffee.
No cream.
No sugar.
Of course.
Men like Dante probably considered sweetness a personality weakness.
“Michael sold information about you.”
I stared at my cup.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
My chest tightened.
“For my address?”
“Address. Work schedule. Your mother’s name. Your habits.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“My habits.”
“Gym. Grocery store. Which bus you take.”
I looked at him.
“He remembered all that?”
“He didn’t need to remember. He followed you.”
Silence.
The coffee turned sour in my mouth.
“For how long?”
“At least six weeks.”
I suddenly remembered little things.
A car parked outside Aurelio’s.
Footsteps behind me.
A cigarette smell in my apartment hallway.
Things I had dismissed because ordinary women were taught not to act paranoid.
“What does Caruso want?”
Dante didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said, “My territory.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Do you people hear yourselves?”
“Elena.”
“No, seriously. Territory? What century is this?”
“The century where men still kill for money.”
That shut me up.
Dante stepped closer.
“Caruso believes Matteo is my weakness.”
“He’s your son. Of course he is.”
“He couldn’t reach Matteo directly.”
“So he’s using me.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“I think the restaurant accident wasn’t an accident.”
My skin went cold.
“Sophie tripped.”
“Someone loosened the carpet.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“We checked the security footage.”
He pulled out his phone.
The video showed a man kneeling beside the edge of the carpet ten minutes before Sophie fell.
He tugged it upward.
Then walked away.
I recognized him.
A dishwasher.
Quiet guy.
Worked nights.
“Luis.”
“Gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“His apartment is empty.”
My hands began shaking.
“They planned to hurt Matteo.”
“Yes.”
“And I ruined it.”
“Yes.”
“So now they’re coming after me.”
Dante’s voice dropped.
“Yes.”
I looked away.
“I should leave.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I mean Chicago.”
“No.”
My temper snapped.
“You do not own me.”
His eyes turned hard.
“I know.”
“Then stop ordering me around.”
“I’m not keeping you here because I enjoy arguing with you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I’m keeping you here because the second you step outside without protection, Caruso will take you.”
“Then let him.”
Dante slammed his palm against the counter.
I jumped.
His face went terrifyingly still.
“Never say that again.”
The force in his voice stunned me.
“Why do you care?”
The question came out softer than I intended.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then he said, “Because Matteo woke up screaming your name twice tonight.”
That took the anger out of me.
“He did?”
“He thinks you got hurt because of him.”
“He’s five.”
“He’s my son.”
“And?”
“And he remembers everything.”
So did Dante, apparently.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“You saved the most important person in my life.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“That makes you important to me whether you like it or not.”
My pulse jumped.
Before I could answer, his phone rang.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“When?”
Silence.
“Keep him there.”
He hung up.
“Who?”
Dante reached for his jacket.
“Michael.”
My stomach dropped.
“You found him?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Dante looked at me.
“In the alley behind Aurelio’s.”
Relief and terror collided.
May you like
Then he added one more sentence.
“He was waiting for you.”
