Chapter 14
Gabriel did not deny leaving Sofia.
He stood beneath the Moretti garden colonnade at sunset.
Dante had summoned him.
Gabriel came.
Maybe because Ethan remained in the estate one final night.
Maybe because he was tired of running.
“You found Thomas.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“You left her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Stefano had six men.”
“You had a gun.”
“One.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“Because Sofia told me to.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“What?”
“She said run.”
“Why?”
“She thought I could reach you.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Why?”
Gabriel’s voice broke.
“Because I was angry.”
There.
The ugliest truth.
“I thought she chose you again.”
“She was dying.”
“I didn’t know that yet.”
“You left.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s eyes filled.
“I ran.”
“I told myself I would circle back.”
“I told myself I needed help.”
“Then I kept running.”
Dante stared.
Not hero.
Not mastermind.
A wounded man who failed at the crucial moment.
“What did she tell you?”
Gabriel looked toward Lily’s window.
“‘Tell Dante the war is the trap.’”
Dante closed his eyes.
Sofia’s final lesson.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“‘Tell Lily I chose the road.’”
Dante’s face broke.
Sofia had chosen the crash.
Not death.
A chance.
A lesser danger.
She had fought.
Gabriel continued:
“I never told you.”
“No.”
“Because?”
“I hated you.”
Dante nodded.
At least no excuse.
Gabriel looked at him.
“Do you want to kill me?”
“Yes.”
Honest.
“Will you?”
Dante looked toward the house.
Ethan was inside packing with Vanessa.
Lily was eating strawberries with Laura.
Two children.
“Not tonight.”
Gabriel laughed softly.
“Sofia wins again.”
“Maybe.”
“What happens to me?”
“Your son decides whether he sees you.”
Gabriel’s expression darkened.
“You don’t control that.”
“No.”
Dante almost smiled.
“That’s the point.”
Gabriel looked away.
“And Vanessa?”
“Not my wife.”
“Good.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“Careful.”
Gabriel almost laughed.
“You still care.”
“I care that she is Ethan’s mother.”
Not love.
Not forgiveness.
Responsibility.
Gabriel nodded.
Then reached into his coat.
Nico moved.
Dante raised a hand.
Gabriel removed a small silver object.
Sofia’s necklace.
Dante froze.
“She gave it to me before the cars came.”
He held it out.
“Why?”
“She said you would understand when you stopped needing someone to blame.”
Dante took it.
Inside the locket was a tiny photograph.
Not Dante.
Not the children.
Three young men.
Dante’s father Angelo.
Rafael.
Stefano.
And behind them—
a woman.
Dante recognized her.
His mother.
Lucia Moretti.
Dead twenty-seven years.
On the back, Sofia had scratched:
SHE STARTED IT.
Dante stared.
“What does this mean?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I never knew.”
Rafael had been isolated.
Stefano contained.
Angelo dead.
Yet Sofia’s final object pointed further back.
To Dante’s mother.
A woman everyone remembered as gentle.
Quiet.
Removed from business.
Gabriel looked at the photograph.
“Maybe your father wasn’t the beginning.”
Dante understood.
Families loved stories with one monster.
History rarely cooperated.
He looked toward the dark estate.
“Where is Margaret?”
“My father’s sister?”
Gabriel frowned.
“Why?”
“She knew my mother better than anyone.”
Dante turned toward Nico.
“Bring her tomorrow.”
Then stopped himself.
No command.
“Ask if she’ll come.”
Nico nodded.
Small change.
Still change.
That night Ethan left with Vanessa.
He hugged Lily before going.
“I’m sorry you cleaned my cake.”
Lily frowned.
“You didn’t make me.”
Ethan’s eyes filled.
“No.”
Then she handed him her stuffed rabbit for one second.
“Bye.”
He smiled.
“Bye.”
Vanessa stood several feet away.
She did not approach Lily.
Good.
She looked at Dante.
“No nursing home?”
For one second he remembered his threat.
He almost smiled.
“No.”
“What then?”
“Live with yourself.”
May you like
Vanessa nodded.
That frightened her more.
