Chapter 7 - SELENA’S REAL NAME
Dante disappeared for twelve hours.
Not physically.
His security knew where he was.
But he stopped answering everyone.
Even Vittorio.
Especially Vittorio.
Amara found him after midnight in the empty sanctuary of St. Michael’s Church, where Marco Moretti’s funeral had been held fifteen years earlier.
She had not intended to go.
Caleb told her where Dante was, and she hated herself for caring.
But hate had never erased eight years overnight.
Dante sat in the last pew.
Alone.
He looked up when she approached.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m getting tired of hearing that.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Amara sat two seats away.
Not beside him.
The distance mattered.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Finally Dante said, “I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“I would never…”
His voice broke.
“I know.”
Dante pressed his hands together.
“She knew.”
Amara looked at him.
“Selena?”
“Sofia.”
The name sounded strange.
“She knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“And she still…”
He stopped.
Amara understood there were some sentences too ugly to complete.
Dante stared at the altar.
“Maybe Isabella told her that was the point.”
“To punish you.”
“To make me betray you in the worst possible way.”
Amara’s expression hardened.
“She may have manipulated you.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“But you still made the choices.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
Again.
Amara hated how much that mattered.
“I keep wanting the manipulation to make me innocent,” he said.
“That would be easier.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re not.”
“I know.”
Dante looked at her.
“And I don’t want you to tell me otherwise.”
Amara stared.
This man felt unfamiliar.
Not because he had changed.
Because for the first time, he was refusing to hide behind power.
His phone vibrated.
He glanced down.
Then stood.
“What?”
“We found her.”
“Selena?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Dante’s face became complicated.
“At Marco’s grave.”
They arrived twenty minutes later.
Selena stood alone beneath an umbrella.
No guards.
No expensive coat.
No perfect makeup.
She looked younger.
She turned when she saw Dante.
Something moved across her face.
Fear.
Shame.
Hatred.
Maybe all three.
Dante stopped ten feet away.
“What’s your name?”
Selena looked at the grave.
“You know.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
She lifted her chin.
“Sofia.”
Dante swallowed.
“Sofia what?”
“Sofia Ferraro.”
A pause.
Then:
“Moretti if you believe blood matters more than what people do.”
Vittorio arrived behind them.
Sofia saw him.
Her face transformed.
“You.”
Vittorio stopped.
“You look like him.”
“Don’t.”
Her voice shook.
“Do not talk about my father.”
“He was my son.”
“And you killed him.”
Vittorio flinched.
Dante stepped forward.
“Sofia.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Uncle Dante.”
He recoiled.
The word was a weapon.
She had intended it that way.
Amara stood beneath Caleb’s umbrella, one hand over her stomach.
Sofia noticed.
Her eyes moved to Amara’s belly.
Something in her expression softened.
Then hardened again.
Amara spoke.
“Did you send the men who tried to take me?”
“No.”
“Did Isabella?”
Sofia looked away.
“Answer her,” Dante said.
Sofia laughed.
“There he is.”
“What?”
“The king.”
She turned.
“You still think everybody owes you answers.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
Amara stepped between them verbally.
“Sofia.”
The younger woman looked at her.
“You participated in ruining my marriage.”
Sofia’s face shifted.
“But I need to know whether you participated in threatening my baby.”
“No.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
The honesty surprised Amara.
Sofia lowered the umbrella.
Rain touched her hair.
“My mother wanted Dante broken.”
“And you?”
“At first?”
She looked at Dante.
“Yes.”
Dante absorbed it.
Sofia continued.
“She told me my father died because of the Morettis. That Vittorio destroyed him and Dante murdered the man who raised me.”
“Your adoptive father?” Amara asked.
“No. My mother’s husband. Matteo.”
The warehouse.
Dante looked sick.
“I was ten when Matteo died.”
Sofia’s voice trembled.
“My mother showed me the photographs. She told me Dante had ordered it.”
“I did,” Dante said.
Sofia stared.
“But I was told the building was empty.”
“Do you think that matters to a ten-year-old girl?”
“No.”
That answer stopped her.
Dante stepped closer.
“It doesn’t matter to me either.”
Sofia blinked.
“I killed him.”
His voice was low.
“I was twenty-one, furious and stupid and trying to avenge a brother whose death I did not understand.”
He looked at Marco’s grave.
“If I could undo it, I would.”
Sofia’s eyes filled.
“But you can’t.”
“No.”
“My mother said you’d deny it.”
“I won’t.”
“She said you’d blame Vittorio.”
“I blame him for what he did.”
Dante looked at his father.
“But my choices belong to me.”
Amara felt something in her chest tighten.
Dante turned back.
“Just like what I did to Amara belongs to me.”
Sofia looked at Amara.
Shame appeared.
“I was supposed to get close to him for six months.”
Amara stayed silent.
“Find schedules. Passwords. Business connections. Learn his weaknesses.”
“And then?”
Sofia laughed bitterly.
“My mother decided his weakness wasn’t money.”
Her gaze shifted to Amara.
“It was you.”
Amara felt cold.
“So you slept with him.”
“Yes.”
Dante looked away.
Sofia’s voice cracked.
“At first, it was revenge.”
“At first?” Amara asked.
Sofia closed her eyes.
“I didn’t expect him to be kind.”
Amara nearly laughed.
“Please don’t.”
“I know how that sounds.”
“No. You know how it sounds to you. You don’t know how it sounds to his wife.”
Sofia nodded.
“You’re right.”
“Did you love him?”
Dante stiffened.
Sofia stared at the grave.
“I don’t know.”
Amara believed her.
That might have been worse.
“Did you leak the paternity story?”
“No.”
“The photographs?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Isabella where I was?”
Sofia hesitated.
Amara’s blood chilled.
“Did you?”
“I gave my mother access to Dante’s calendar months ago.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“And Amara’s?”
“I photographed it.”
Amara closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I am.”
“You sat in my house.”
“I know.”
“Wearing his clothes.”
“I know.”
“While knowing someone was tracking me.”
“I didn’t know she would target you physically.”
“You knew enough.”
Sofia began crying.
For once, Amara felt no satisfaction.
Dante asked, “Are you pregnant?”
Sofia froze.
Then nodded.
“Is it mine?”
“No.”
Dante stared.
Amara’s heart stopped.
Sofia wiped her face.
“I knew you’d assume.”
“Whose?”
“Elias.”
The name landed hard.
“He’s your partner?”
“He was.”
“Was?”
“My mother had him killed yesterday.”
Silence.
Sofia hugged herself.
“He wanted out.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“He knew you were pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“And Isabella killed him anyway?”
“Yes.”
Amara’s fear sharpened.
Sofia looked at her.
“That’s why I called you.”
“Why me?”
“Because she’s not trying to expose Dante anymore.”
Thunder rolled across the cemetery.
“She’s trying to erase everyone he loves.”
Dante moved instantly toward Amara.
She lifted a hand.
He stopped.
Sofia continued.
“My mother believes love destroyed our family.”
She looked at Vittorio.
“She wants the Morettis to understand what losing a family feels like.”
Amara asked, “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do we stop her?”
Sofia reached into her coat.
Caleb’s guards reacted.
“Easy,” she whispered.
She withdrew a key.
Old brass.
She handed it to Amara.
“What is this?”
“A deposit box.”
“Where?”
“First Chicago Trust.”
“What’s inside?”
“Everything.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Everything what?”
“Records. Payments. Names. The people helping her.”
Sofia looked directly at Amara.
“And proof that someone inside Dante’s own house has been working for my mother for thirteen years.”
Dante froze.
“Who?”
Sofia shook her head.
“I never knew the real name.”
Amara tightened her grip around the key.
Sofia whispered, “But the file contains a photograph.”
A gunshot shattered the rain.
Sofia jerked.
Dante grabbed Amara and pulled her down.
Caleb’s men surrounded them.
Another shot struck a headstone.
Sofia fell.
Blood spread across her shoulder.
“Sniper!” someone shouted.
Chaos erupted.
Dante dragged Amara behind the stone wall.
Vittorio crawled toward Sofia.
Caleb screamed into his radio.
Amara clutched her stomach.
Then she felt it.
Warm liquid.
Running down her leg.
She looked at Dante.
His face went white.
“Amara?”
May you like
Her voice shook.
“My water just broke.”
