Chapter 6 - Shadows Behind the Glass
The gala had been a total triumph, but Elena’s feet throbbed by the time they returned to the penthouse at midnight. Dante personally drew a warm bath infused with lavender oils, kneeling beside the porcelain tub to wash her tired feet with quiet, dedicated devotion that completely contradicted his terrifying public image.
“You didn’t have to destroy Richard’s father in front of everyone,” Elena whispered, leaning her head back against the marble rim, watching Dante’s scarred, capable hands massage her calves.
“Arthur Vance financed the logistics for my attempted assassination in Monaco,” Dante said, his voice flat, matter-of-fact.
Elena sat bolt upright, water sloshing over the edge. “What?”
Dante looked up, his dark eyes burning with cold rage. “My intelligence team decrypted the offshore wire transfers three hours ago. Arthur Vance didn't just support Richard's cruelty toward you. He saw an opportunity six months ago to eliminate me so his hedge fund could seize control of our European shipping routes. He conspired with an inside source within my own organization.”
Elena felt a cold chill settle deep in her bones. “An inside source? Dante… who?”
“My brother. Julian.”
Elena’s hand flew to her mouth. “Julian? But he’s your family!”
“In an empire like mine, family is often the most dangerous enemy,” Dante replied, drying his hands on a plush towel. He stood up, wrapping Elena in a thick bathrobe as she stepped out of the tub. “Julian believes he was born to rule Moretti Holdings. He thinks our father favored me simply because my mother was his lawful wife. Julian has been feeding information to Vance for over a year.”
“If you know this, why haven’t you arrested him? Why haven’t you stopped him?”
“Because Julian is clever,” Dante said, leading her toward the bedroom. “He routes every communication through encrypted dummy servers. Until today, I had suspicions, but no legal proof that would withstand a federal trial. But tonight, when Arthur collapsed, my men secured Arthur’s private phone from his jacket.”
Dante walked to the nightstand and picked up a tablet. He showed Elena the screen.
It was a text message thread between Arthur Vance and a burner phone traced directly to Julian’s penthouse.
The last message, sent just forty minutes ago, read: *Arthur failed. Move to Plan B. The obstetric clinic on 74th Street. Tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM. Terminate the pregnancy, eliminate the mother. Dante will burn himself down in the aftermath.*
Elena felt all the air leave her lungs. Her knees gave out, but Dante caught her before she could fall, pulling her tightly against his chest.
“They want to kill my baby,” she sobbed against his shirt, terror finally breaking through her composure. “Dante, they’re going to kill our son!”
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“No,” Dante growled, his voice vibrating with lethal authority. “They are walking into a trap.”
***
