Chapter 3

As I was leaving the Gariboldi estate, my father handed me a Swiss bank draft payable to bearer.

"If you need money on the way, use this.

"Don't let anyone find out you came back here."

As the car passed through the old warehouse district on the west side of town, I suddenly asked Paolo, the driver, to pull over.

"The wine cellar at the estate has rats.

"Could you go to the black market and get me some cyanide?"

Paolo didn't suspect a thing. He took the cash I gave him and headed down a nearby run-down alley.

Before long, he came back, handed me a small black bottle, and warned me, "The seller said this stuff kills in an instant.

"Don't spill any. Even a tiny amount could kill you in three seconds."

I put the bottle in my pocket.

The last thing my father would ever give me had turned out to be useful after all.

When I got back to the Cordano estate, the suite I'd lived in for three years had been stripped almost bare.

The nameplate was gone. The carpet had been replaced.

The staff was carrying my things out, one box after another.

Isabella sat on the sofa, flipping through a stack of notes.

When I was first brought here and wouldn't eat, Dante had left me a note that read, "Eat something, or I'll kidnap every chef in Vienna."

One winter, when my hands and feet wouldn't stay warm, another note read, "I turned the floor heat all the way up. Come sit on my lap and warm up."

When I came down with a cough and complained that the syrup was bitter, another note read, "Finish this, and tomorrow I'll take you to watch the sunset on the Danube. I promise."

I'd locked those notes away in a box and treasured them for three whole years.

Isabella read one and suddenly laughed. "Dante's still using the same old tricks to sweet-talk people."

She tossed the note into the fire.

The flames flared, and the note curled into ash.

"When I was little and didn't want a shot, he always told me there'd be candy afterward.

"Chiara, you didn't think he only said these things to you, did you?"

She picked up another note.

"That time you got shot, Dante waited outside the operating room for three days. Weren't you touched?"

My fingers curled into my palms.

Isabella leaned close and lowered her voice. "During those three days, he deliberately postponed his meetings with the other families and sent the Cordano family's entire medical team to treat you.

"Our enemies fell for it. They thought he was neglecting everything for you, so they pulled half of the elite guards away from me.

"That's when Dante's people finally found out where I was being held."

I stared at her, stunned.

When I got shot, I was in so much pain I could barely think.

Dante held my hand and said my name over and over.

I asked him if he'd leave me.

He answered, "No."

When I woke the next day, I was the one who kissed him, for the very first time.

What I'd thought was love had only been another move in his game.

When he'd watched me throw my arms around him in delight, had he thought I was ridiculous?

I was only a tool to him, yet I'd actually fallen in love with him.

The study door opened.

Dante walked in.

I looked at him and asked quietly, "Was every visit with my brother part of your plan?"

"Yes," Dante said.

"And you took me to charity galas to draw out the enemy's spies too?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"And the days I almost died from that gunshot wound?" I pressed.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Chiara, I had to get Isabella out."

No excuses. Just an admission.

Dante walked up to me.

"Chiara, I admit I was using you at first.

"But without me, the Gariboldi family would have lost its place among the four families three years ago.

"I kept your family from falling. I kept your brother safe. And I gave you more power and money than most people ever see in a lifetime.

"All I'm asking now is that you take a new name and start over in Switzerland."

He frowned.

"Isn't that enough?"

Isabella leaned against him and said softly, "Chiara, don't blame Dante.

"He spent five years looking for me. If he hadn't played a few tricks, how could he ever have gotten me out?

"Besides, it's not like you came away with nothing.

"For three years, he spoiled you in ways many women could only dream of."

She made it sound so trivial.

As if even that fake tenderness were a favor he'd granted me.

But she didn't know I'd taken every bit of it as real.

I'd even imagined that once Dante had the four families completely under his control, I'd have a child with him and spend the rest of my life at his side.

Looking back, I was glad no one had ever known.

Otherwise, the happiness I'd felt over those three years would have seemed like one huge joke.

Dante looked at me.

"You'll inject yourself with the drug at noon tomorrow.

"Your 'body' will be taken out through the secret passage. Marco will be waiting on the other side."

Isabella cut in, "Noon won't work.

"Tomorrow I'm going to the port for the handover of those three docks. It'd be such bad luck to run into a funeral."

Dante thought about it.

"Then make it an hour earlier."

He turned to Bruno and ordered, "Move quickly. Don't hold up Isabella's business."

I listened quietly.

Even the time of my "death" had to fit his new love's schedule.

Fine.

An hour earlier or later made no difference to a dead woman.