Chapter 4

Dante came home late that night.

Nico was already asleep. I was at the dining table sorting the papers from the law office when Dante saw the withdrawal form on top of the stack.

"So now you're using our son to make a point?"

I looked at him and said nothing.

He tossed his coat over a chair. "What happened this morning ends there. Nico does not leave the elite track because you say so. And whatever you said at the office, I'm treating it as anger."

"It wasn't anger."

He laughed once.

"You're not leaving, Serena."

He said it like he already knew. Like four years of waiting had proven it.

"You won't walk away," he said. "And you won't cut Nico off from this family."

I sealed the last envelope and set it aside. "You can test that."

He studied my face, then went upstairs.

Claire came the next afternoon.

I was in the living room setting up a small birthday dinner for Nico. He had barely spoken since the fire, and I did not want a crowd. Just cake, a few children, and one quiet evening.

Claire arrived with a gift bag and a hard drive.

"I came to apologize," she said. "For yesterday. Leo picked something out for Nico, and Dante recorded a message."

I did not ask her in.

She set the drive on the table anyway. "Don't be too hard on him. He never reacts well when he thinks someone is forcing his hand."

I looked at her. "You came here to tell me that?"

"I came because this doesn't have to get uglier," she said. "You've known him long enough to understand that."

"This is my son's home," I said. "Not yours."

Her face tightened for a second.

"You should still let Nico see the video," she said. "Dante did remember today."

After she left, I stared at the hard drive for a long time before having it connected to the screen.

That evening stayed small and quiet. Nico managed a smile when he blew out the candles. For a little while, I thought we might get through it.

Then the video started.

It was not a birthday message.

The first image was from a dinner in Chicago. Dante stood near the end of a long table with a drink in his hand. Someone off camera asked him when he had felt most at home in the past few years.

He thought for a moment.

Then he said it was one winter night during a blackout. Claire had been in the kitchen by candlelight, trying to get Leo to sleep. Leo had clung to his sleeve and begged him not to leave. That, he said, was the first time he thought maybe there was no reason to go back to New York at all.

The room went silent.

I turned to Nico. He was still holding his plate, but all the color had drained from his face.

At that exact moment, Claire called.

I answered.

"Did the wrong clip play?" Claire asked quickly. "I'm so sorry. I meant to send the birthday message. They must have mixed the files."

I said nothing.

"You shouldn't read too much into it," she said. "Chicago was different. Leo needed him, and once he started feeling at home with us, you know Dante never wanted to leave."

Then more videos started arriving on my phone.

In one, Dante was fastening Leo into the passenger seat of an armored SUV. In another, he was cutting a steak for him at dinner. In the last, Leo held up a new training badge while Dante stood beside him and said, "Good boy."

I locked the screen and set the phone down.

Nico had not moved.

I took the plate from his hands and crouched in front of him. "Do you want to go upstairs?"

He nodded.

I carried him to bed and waited until he fell asleep.

Then I went back downstairs, stood alone in the dark living room, and called Vivian.

She answered at once.

"Serena?"

"The position you offered me," I said. "Is it still open?"

A pause.

"Yes. Have you decided?"

I looked at the hard drive still sitting on the table.

"Yes."

"How soon can you get here?"

I switched off the lights.

"Three days."