3. The Monster at the Door

Dante stood in Alessia’s ruined bedroom with another man’s blood drying across his hands.

One attacker had escaped. Two were dead. A fourth lay downstairs with a bullet in his thigh and Moretti soldiers surrounding him.

The prisoner had lasted seven minutes.

Longer than most.

“Russian weapons,” Enzo said. “Unregistered vehicles. The survivor claims Sokolov hired them.”

“He’s lying.”

“Why?”

Dante crouched beside the shattered balcony door and lifted a security card from beneath the glass.

Romano clearance.

“Someone let them inside.”

Enzo accepted the card. “Luca?”

“He needs the marriage too badly.”

“Then one of his men.”

Dante remembered Matteo’s hand around Alessia’s wrist and the unfinished warning about Gabriel’s death.

“DeLuca.”

Enzo nodded. “He disappeared during the attack.”

Dante rose. Blood soaked the shirt beneath his jacket where a bullet had grazed his ribs. The wound meant nothing compared with the absence of Alessia’s body beneath his.

He had held her.

Someone had taken her.

“Close every port, airfield and railway station,” he ordered. “Nobody leaves the city.”

“That could start a war.”

“The war began when they touched her.”

Viktor Sokolov arrived in Alessia’s basement prison shortly after the second recording attempt.

His silver hair and immaculate grey suit made him look more like a statesman than a criminal. Everyone in the room became still when he entered.

He examined Alessia’s bruised face.

“I specifically instructed you not to mark her.”

“She wouldn’t cooperate,” the largest captor replied.

Viktor accepted the man’s knife and drove it through his hand into the table.

The scream filled the basement.

“When I give an instruction,” Viktor said calmly, “I expect it to be followed.”

After the injured man was removed, Viktor sat opposite Alessia.

“I apologise for the discourtesy.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t accept.”

“You have your mother’s spirit.”

Alessia’s blood cooled. “You knew her?”

“Everyone knew Sofia Romano.”

“What do you want?”

“Dante possesses evidence capable of destroying every powerful family in this city—including mine.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Your mother kept financial records for the Romanos. After she died, Gabriel discovered them.”

“And Dante killed him.”

“Is that what Luca told you?”

Alessia said nothing.

“Dante met Gabriel on the night of his death,” Viktor continued, “but your brother left that meeting alive.”

“You’re lying.”

“Ask Matteo who followed him.”

Rage surged through Alessia.

“Where are the records?”

“Dante concealed them.”

“Then why kidnap me?”

Viktor leaned forward. “Because Dante Moretti has watched you for four years.”

“He doesn’t care about me.”

“You truly don’t know.”

An explosion shook dust from the ceiling.

Gunfire erupted above them.

Men shouted in Russian, and boots thundered across the floor.

Viktor drew a pistol.

The basement door opened and Matteo stumbled inside.

“Moretti.”

The gunfire moved closer.

Then silence.

The handle slowly turned.

Dante entered alone.

Blood streaked his face. His sleeves had been rolled to his elbows, revealing scarred forearms. He held a pistol at his side.

His eyes found Alessia.

The murderous cold in his expression broke for one instant.

Viktor seized her chair and pressed his gun against her temple.

“If you pull that trigger,” Dante said, “you’ll be dead before she reaches the floor.”

“Put down your weapon.”

Dante obeyed.

Alessia stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home.”

“I’m not worth your life.”

“That isn’t your decision.”

Matteo moved behind Dante and placed a pistol against his spine.

Viktor smiled. “The great Moretti brought to his knees by a woman.”

“I know the safety on your gun is engaged, Matteo,” Alessia said.

Dante dropped.

Matteo pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Dante spun, seized the weapon and drove Matteo to the floor. Alessia threw her weight sideways, knocking Viktor’s pistol away.

Moretti soldiers stormed the room.

Within seconds, it was over.

Dante cut Alessia’s restraints and examined her injuries. His thumb brushed her swollen cheek.

“Who did this?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

He lifted her into his arms.

“I can walk.”

“I know.”

“Then put me down.”

“No.”

As Dante carried her upstairs, Alessia looked back at Matteo.

The man she had trusted had delivered her to Viktor.

The monster she had hated had surrendered his weapon to save her.

For the first time, she wondered whether she had chosen the wrong enemy.