CALCULATIONS & CONFESSIONS

Dante's Pov

"He worked for fourteen hours straight."

Nico's voice carried a note of concern. It was past one in the morning.

"Did he eat?"

"Made himself a sandwich around four thirty. Otherwise, just coffee and snacks."

The meeting with Marco and Teresa had been brutal. Marco was willing to trust my judgment. Teresa had watched me with calculating eyes, asking pointed questions about my "intelligence asset."

She knew something was off.

"He went straight to bed."

"Go home, Nico. Get some sleep."

After he left, I poured myself a scotch. I should have felt guilty. But mostly I felt protective of the man sleeping down the hall.

My phone buzzed. Father Pietro.

“Still want to talk about last night?”

“Tomorrow. Late afternoon. Your office?”

“I'll put the coffee on.”

My mind kept circling back to the meeting. Marco had pulled me aside. "Dante, I need you to be honest with me. Is this really about intelligence?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"He was going to be sold to Dmitri Sokolov. Or Marcus Chen. Or any of a dozen other buyers who would have destroyed him."

Marco had studied my face. "So you saved him."

"I bought him. That's not the same thing."

I woke to sunlight and the smell of coffee. When I emerged, I found Luca in the kitchen making breakfast.

He glanced up, startled. "I hope you don't mind. I couldn't sleep and I cook when I'm anxious."

"It's fine. What are you making?"

"Frittata. And toast. And fruit salad."

"You're used to cooking for two. You and your sister."

His hands stilled. "Yeah. Sofia and I would have big breakfasts on weekends. It was our thing."

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Buying me or destroying my life?"

"Both. Either. All of it."

He served the frittata. "Your apology doesn't change anything."

"I know."

We ate in silence.

"I found something," he said suddenly.

"In the financials?"

"In the construction company accounts. There's a pattern of payments to subcontractors that don't seem to exist. Someone's siphoning off money regularly."

"How much?"

"Over the past two years? Probably close to two million. Maybe more."

Two million. The same amount I'd paid for him.

"Can you trace it further?"

"Given time, yes. But whoever set this up knew what they were doing."

"Someone with inside knowledge."

"And access to your financial systems. Someone you trust."

The list was short. Marco, Teresa, Alessio. Family.

"Keep digging. But be careful."

"I have to meet with Father Pietro this afternoon. Will you be okay here alone?"

Luca laughed sharply. "I don't exactly have a choice, do I?"

"The door to your room will stay unlocked. You can go anywhere in the apartment."

"Except freedom."

"Except that. For now."

He started clearing plates.

"Luca."

He didn't turn around.

"I know this situation is impossible. But I'm trying to keep you alive long enough to figure out a solution."

"A solution that isn't you owning me?"

"Yes."

He finally looked at me. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because if I wanted to own you the way those other buyers did, I would have already done it."

"Maybe you're just a more sophisticated monster."

"Maybe I am. But I'm the monster who's keeping you alive. That has to count for something."

He turned back to the sink.

Pietro was waiting in his office by the time I arrived with fresh coffee.

"Tell me about the auction."

"I bought someone."

"For two million dollars."

"He was going to be sold to someone worse."

"And that's why you bid?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I saw someone refuse to break and something in me responded."

"Tell me about him."

So I did. About Luca refusing to kneel. About the impossible situation I'd created.

"Do you remember what I told you when your father died?" Pietro finally asked.

"You told me a lot of things."

"I told you that power without compassion turns men into monsters."

"I'm not sure I succeeded at that."

"You bought a man at an auction, Dante. That's not the action of someone who's maintained their humanity."

I flinched.

"But you bought him to save him from worse. You're trying to figure out how to let him go safely. Those are the actions of someone still fighting to be better."

"He thinks I'm a monster."

"Are you?"

"I don't know anymore."

"Monsters don't question their actions. They justify them."

"What do I do?"

"You can't fix this. Not completely. But you can give him real choices as soon as it's safe. And you can be honest with yourself about why you really bought him."

"I told you why."

"You told me what you did. Not why."

"Because he reminded me of who I used to be. Before this life ground it out of me."

"Then maybe saving him is also about saving some part of yourself."

"He's investigating the embezzlement. He found patterns in one day that our accountants missed."

"And when he finds who's stealing from you?"

"I handle it."

"You'll kill them."

"Probably."

"And Luca will know that his work led to someone's death."

"He understands the situation."

"Understanding and accepting are different things. This will break him eventually."

"So what should I do? Let him go? Watch him get killed within a day?"

"No. But be honest. This isn't just about keeping him safe. This is about the fact that you care about him."

"I barely know him."

"You know he raised his sister. That he cooks when he's anxious. That he refuses to break. You know the important things."

"That doesn't change what I did."

"No. But it changes what comes next. If this was just about intelligence, you'd have handed him off by now."

"I can't afford it personally."

"You already made it personal when you bid two million dollars on impulse."

"Be careful, Dante. Caring about someone makes you vulnerable. But not caring makes you a monster."

When I returned, Luca was in the office.

"Find anything else?"

He jumped. "Jesus. You scared me."

"Sorry."

"Yeah. More phantom subcontractors connected to the shipping company. Whoever's doing this has access to multiple business fronts."

"That narrows it down."

"To who?"

"My brother Marco manages construction and shipping. My sister-in-law Teresa oversees several fronts. My cousin Alessio has access."

"You think it's one of them? Your family?"

"Family is where betrayal cuts deepest."

"What happens when I prove which one it is?"

"I handle it."

"By killing them."

"By doing what's necessary."

"Even if it's your brother?"

"Even then. This life doesn't make an exception for blood."

"That's horrible."

"That's reality."

"I don't want to be responsible for someone's death."

"Then think of it as protecting your sister. Every day you work on this is another day Sofia stays safe."

It was manipulation. But it was also true.

"I hate this. I hate all of it."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you really know what it's like to have every choice taken away?"

I thought about being nineteen when my father died. About the first time I'd had to order someone killed.

"Yes. I know exactly what that's like."

He looked at me, and something shifted. Not forgiveness. But maybe understanding.

"How do you live with it? How do you make choices you hate and still sleep at night?"

"Mostly, I don't sleep. And when I do, I drink enough that the nightmares are manageable."

"That's not healthy."

"Nothing about this life is healthy."

"I'll keep working. But when this is done... I want out. I want a real chance at a different life."

"I'll do everything I can to make that happen."

"Why? Why do you care?"

Because you remind me of who I used to be. Because watching you refuse to break gave me hope. Because you've made me feel more human than I have in years.

"Because despite what you think, I'm not a complete monster. And because you deserve better."

He studied me, then nodded and turned back to his computer.

Pietro's words haunted me.

*Caring about someone makes you vulnerable.*

I was already vulnerable.

I poured myself a scotch and stood at the windows.

My phone buzzed. Marco.

“Teresa wants a family dinner tomorrow night. She insists you bring your "intelligence asset."

Teresa wanted to meet Luca.

I typed back: What time?

*Seven. Our place. And Dante? Be careful. Teresa's been asking a lot of questions.”

I went to the office.

"We have a family dinner tomorrow night. You're coming with me."

He looked up, alarmed. "What? No. I can't…."

"You don't have a choice. Teresa demanded to meet you."

"Suspicions about what?"

"About why I really bought you."

"I'm not something more. You own me."

"I know. But they don't know that. And right now, the ambiguity is what's keeping you alive."

He stood. "I don't know how to be around criminals."

"Just be yourself. Answer questions honestly. And stay close to me."

"Why?"

Because I don't trust anyone else with you. Because in three days you've become something I need to protect at any cost.

"Because it's safer that way."

He nodded.

Because what choice did either of us have? We were both trapped in this nightmare now.