Masuk“Marcus… you’re alive.”Dante said it like a fact he didn’t trust.Like saying it out loud might break whatever illusion was standing in front of him.Marcus looked different.Too different.His face was thinner. His shoulders slightly hunched.Clothes hanging loose like he hadn’t been eating properly.Like he hadn’t been living properly.“Can I come in?” Marcus asked.His voice was rough. Tired.Dante stepped aside immediately.“Of course.”Marcus walked in slowly.His eyes moved around the house.The furniture.The soft light.The scattered toys.Elena’s little shoes by the stairs.Leo’s backpack half open on a chair.He stopped.“You’ve built something,” he said quietly.Dante didn’t respond right away.“Yeah,” he said finally. “We have.”Marcus nodded, but there was something in his expression.Something heavy.Something unfinished.“What happened to you?” Dante asked.Marcus exhaled.“I wasn’t at the safe house when they attacked.”Dante frowned.“You weren’t there?”“No. I left
“Pregnant?”Dante said the word like it didn’t fully belong to him.Like it might disappear if he didn’t hold onto it carefully.Sienna watched his face closely, her hands resting over her stomach.“Yes,” she said softly.Then, after a pause, “I’m eight weeks.”Dante blinked.Once.Twice.Then the words hit him.Another baby.Another life.His chest lifted sharply as if he’d just remembered how to breathe.“Are you serious?” His voice cracked, but there was a smile forming now. “Really?”Sienna gave a small nod.“Three tests. Doctor confirmed yesterday.”Dante stepped forward.Slow.Careful.Like she might vanish if he moved too fast.Then he pulled her into his arms.Held her tightly.Not too tight.Just enough to feel real.“We’re having another baby,” he said under his breath.Sienna let out a soft laugh.“Are you happy?”He pulled back just enough to look at her.His eyes were bright.Alive.“Happy?” He shook his head. “Sienna, this is everything.”His hand rested on her cheek.“I
Dante woke to sunlight spilling across his face.Warm. Soft. Real.For a moment, he didn’t move.He just lay there and listened.The house was quiet.Peaceful in a way that still felt new.Sienna slept beside him, one hand resting near his arm.Elena’s soft breathing came from the crib in the corner.Down the hall, Leo’s door was closed.Their home.Their life.Dante closed his eyes briefly.The dream was still there.His father’s voice.Forgive.Move on.Live.He sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Sienna.The air felt different this morning.Lighter.Or maybe it was him.He got dressed and walked into the kitchen.The coffee machine hummed quietly.He made a cup and carried it outside.The ocean stretched out in front of him.Calm.Endless.The same view that had once given him peace.The same view that now felt like something deeper.He sat down on the porch steps and watched the sunrise.Let it rise slowly.Let it settle in his chest.Then he picked up his phone.Dialed a number
Dante couldn’t breathe.The name sat in his chest like a weight.Gregory.His uncle.His father’s brother.The man who had hugged him at the funeral.Who had stood beside him when everything fell apart.Who had told him to be strong.Who had promised to help hold the family together.All of it. A lie.Dante’s fingers curled slowly into a fist.“You’re sure?” His voice came out rough. Strained. “Absolutely sure it was Gregory?”Marcus didn’t hesitate.“I traced the money. Three accounts. All connected back to him.”Sienna stepped closer, her voice careful. “Proof?”“Yes. Bank records. Phone logs. Transfers. Everything lines up.”Silence followed that.Heavy. Uncomfortable.Dante felt something inside him shift.Not anger.Not yet.Something colder.“Why?” Sienna asked quietly. “Why would he do that to his own brother?”Marcus leaned back in his chair, tired in a way that had nothing to do with age.“Jealousy. Resentment. Greed.”Dante’s voice cut in. “Explain.”Marcus nodded slowly.“Y
Dante woke the next morning with the name already in his head.Marcus Hale.He lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, trying to push it away. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t go down this road again. Promised Sienna the same thing.No more chasing shadows. No more letting the past drag them under.Family first.Always.But the name wouldn’t leave.It sat there, heavy and insistent.Marcus Hale. The second car. The missing piece that refused to stay buried.By the time he got out of bed, he already knew he wasn’t done with it.---Breakfast didn’t help.Leo was halfway through a story about something that happened at school, something about a frog and a teacher who panicked. Elena kept interrupting to correct details. They were both talking at once by the end of it.Dante smiled at the right moments. Nodded when it seemed expected.But he couldn’t follow the story.Sienna noticed.She always did.“You’re thinking about him,” she said once the kids ran off to the living room.
Sienna’s hands trembled as she unfolded the pages.The paper felt heavier than it should have. Not because of weight, but because of what it carried.Arthur Blackwood’s handwriting stared back at her. Uneven. Slightly shaky near the end. Like the man who wrote it had been breaking down, one line at a time.Dante sat close beside her. Quiet. Watching. Waiting.Sienna swallowed and began to read.“Sienna and Dante,” she said.“If you’re reading this, I’m dead.”She paused, the words sinking in before she continued.“Good. I deserve to be.”Her voice softened.“For what I did. For what I became. For the lives I destroyed.”Sienna’s chest tightened. “He’s confessing right from the start.”Dante didn’t answer. But he leaned in slightly, his eyes locked on the page.“I know you both hate me. You should.”Sienna felt her fingers stiffen around the letter.“I was a terrible father, Sienna. Absent. Cold. More concerned with money and power than with the daughter who needed me.”Her throat tigh
"How did he know?"Sienna stared at her phone like it was a snake. The text from Julian glowed on the screen, mocking her.Dante took the phone from her shaking hands. His jaw tightened as he read the message again."We need to go. Now." He grabbed her arm and steered her toward where Catarina was
"Where are you?" Dante's voice was ice. Dead calm. The kind of calm that came before violence."The farmhouse. Azores." Elena's voice shook. In the background, Sienna could hear it. Gunfire. Men shouting. Breaking glass. "They came in boats. At least ten men. Maybe more.""Where's Leo?""With me. We
Sienna's room was filling with smoke.She stumbled to the door, coughing, her eyes already burning. The handle was hot under her palm. Not burning hot, but warm enough to make her hesitate.She yanked it open anyway.The hallway was worse. Smoke rolled across the ceiling in thick black waves. Orang
The gun was three inches from Dante's forehead.Almeida's finger tightened on the trigger.Sienna moved without thinking. She grabbed the nearest thing she could reach. A crystal decanter from the table. Swung it hard.It shattered against Almeida's wrist. The gun went off. The bullet missed Dante'







