Updated Nov 6, 2025 • ~10 min read
The plane touched down in Portland at 4:47 AM. Lucia was still asleep, curled up in the bedroom with her rabbit. I’d carried her back there an hour ago, needing her away from the conversation Dante and I were having.
The conversation where I detailed every single file I’d taken. Every transaction. Every name.
Dante’s expression had grown darker with each revelation.
“The Cortez deal,” he’d said at one point. “You have documentation of the Cortez deal?”
I’d nodded. “Shipping manifests. Wire transfers. Everything.”
“Christ, Sofia. Do you have any idea what Adrian would do if he knew you had proof of his family’s involvement?”
Adrian Cortez. His right-hand man. Who was currently sitting in the cockpit, unaware that I had evidence that could send his entire family to prison.
“I told you,” I’d whispered. “I needed insurance.”
“You needed a death wish.”
Now, as the plane taxied to a stop at a different private airfield, Dante was on the phone with someone named Julian.
“I don’t care what you have to do. I want that bank manager at First National awake and cooperative in twenty minutes.” A pause. “Then make it worth his while. Offer him whatever it takes.”
He hung up. Looked at me.
“The bank manager will meet us there. We get in, get the files, get out.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He stood, buttoned his suit jacket. “Money talks, Sofia. Especially at 5 AM.”
Adrian emerged from the cockpit. “Cars are waiting. Michael’s already swept the route. No signs of Sterling or his people.”
“Good. Let’s move.”
I hesitated. “Lucia—”
“Stays on the plane. With armed security.” Dante’s tone left no room for argument. “She’s safer here than anywhere else in this city right now.”
He was right. I hated it, but he was right.
I kissed Lucia’s forehead one more time, then followed Dante down the plane’s stairs into the cool Portland morning.
Two SUVs waited on the tarmac. Black. Identical. The kind that screamed federal agents or mafia. In this case, the latter.
A man stood by the lead vehicle. Tall, muscular, with a scar running down his left cheek and eyes that had seen too much violence.
“Boss.” He nodded to Dante, then his gaze slid to me. Assessing. Calculating.
“Michael, this is Sofia. Sofia, Michael Voss. He’ll be heading your security detail.”
“Security detail?” I echoed.
“You think I’m letting you walk around unprotected after what happened tonight?” Dante opened the SUV door. “Get in.”
The drive to the bank took twelve minutes. Michael drove with the kind of precision that spoke of military training. Adrian sat in the passenger seat, phone constantly buzzing with updates.
Dante sat beside me in the back, his presence overwhelming in the confined space.
“When we get there,” he said quietly, “you let me do the talking. You get the files. We leave. Understood?”
“I’m not a child, Dante.”
“No. You’re the mother of my child. Which makes you a target. So you follow my lead, or you stay in the car.”
I bit back my retort. Picked my battles.
The bank was dark when we arrived, but a man in a hastily-thrown-on suit stood by the entrance, looking nervous and annoyed in equal measure.
Until he saw Dante.
Then he just looked nervous.
“Mr. Marchetti.” He practically stumbled over himself. “I—of course—whatever you need—”
“The safety deposit boxes.” Dante’s voice was all business. “Ms. Romano needs to access hers.”
“Yes, of course, right this way.”
The manager—his name tag read ‘Davis’—unlocked the door with shaking hands. Led us through the dark lobby to the vault area in the back.
“Box number?” he asked me.
“2847.”
He retrieved it with the master key, set it on the table in the private viewing room, then practically ran out.
“I’ll just… I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
The door closed. Leaving me alone with Dante and a box full of his secrets.
I used my key. Opened the lid.
Inside were three flash drives, a stack of papers in a manila envelope, and a small notebook filled with my handwriting. Notes. Observations. Everything I’d seen in the six months I’d been with Dante.
Dante stared at the contents like they were a bomb.
“Three flash drives.”
“Transaction records. Communications. Video files from your office security system.”
His jaw tightened. “You hacked my security system.”
“I dated an IT guy in college. He taught me some things.”
“Jesus Christ, Sofia.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You could have sold this. To the FBI. To rival families. Do you have any idea what people would pay—”
“I didn’t want money. I wanted safety. For me and Lucia.”
He picked up one of the flash drives, turned it over in his hands. “And now Sterling knows about them.”
“I don’t know how. I never told anyone. The only person who knew I had them was—” I stopped.
Dante’s eyes sharpened. “Who?”
“Jade. My friend Jade. But she would never—”
“People talk when motivated correctly. Money. Threats. Fear.” He pocketed the flash drives, grabbed the envelope. “We’ll deal with your friend later. Right now, we need to move.”
He opened the door. Davis practically jumped.
“All set?” the manager squeaked.
“Yes. And Davis?” Dante’s smile was sharp. “This visit never happened. Understood?”
“I—yes—of course—I don’t even remember you being here.”
“Good man.”
We were back in the SUV within minutes. Michael pulled away from the bank smoothly, professionally.
“Airport,” Dante ordered. “Fast as you can without attracting attention.”
“Boss, we have a problem.” Adrian turned in his seat, his phone in his hand. “Julian just sent this.”
He passed the phone back. On the screen was a photo. Grainy, taken from a distance.
It showed Luca Sterling. Standing outside First National Bank. Watching.
My blood ran cold.
“When was this taken?” Dante’s voice was ice.
“Fifteen minutes ago.”
“He followed us.”
“Or he was already watching the bank.” Adrian’s expression was grim. “Waiting to see if you’d show.”
Dante’s hand moved to his waistband. Where I knew he kept a gun.
“Boss, we’re three blocks from the bank,” Michael said from the driver’s seat. “If Sterling’s still in the area—”
“Then we find him.” Dante’s voice was flat. Final. “Adrian, contact Julian. I want Sterling’s location. Now.”
“Dante, we should just go,” I said. “We have the files. That’s what we came for.”
“And leave him free to threaten you again? To come after Lucia?” He shook his head. “No. This ends tonight.”
“You can’t just—”
“Yes, I can.” He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw the full weight of what Dante Marchetti really was. Not the man I’d loved. Not the father of my child.
The Don.
“You wanted to know what I’d do to him?” Dante continued. “Now you get to see.”
Adrian’s phone buzzed. He answered, listened, then cursed in Italian.
“What?” Dante demanded.
“Sterling’s at Sofia’s friend’s apartment. Jade Monroe. Penthouse on Morrison Street.”
My heart stopped. “No. No, he wouldn’t—”
“How long ago?”
“Thermal imaging shows two heat signatures. One moving, one stationary on the floor.”
Oh God. Jade.
“Go.” Dante’s command was sharp. “Now.”
Michael gunned the engine. The SUV surged forward.
“Call the police,” I said frantically. “Call—”
“The police are twenty minutes away and we’re five,” Dante cut me off. “Adrian, get backup to that location. Tell them to secure the perimeter but don’t engage until I arrive.”
“Dante, please—”
“I’m not letting him hurt your friend.” His voice softened, just slightly. “Trust me.”
The drive to Morrison Street was a blur. Michael ran two red lights, took corners fast enough to make my stomach flip.
When we screeched to a stop outside Jade’s building, there were already two more SUVs waiting. Men in dark suits. Armed.
Dante’s people.
“Stay in the car,” Dante ordered.
“She’s my friend—”
“Which is why you’re staying here where I know you’re safe.” He gripped my chin, forced me to look at him. “I will get her out. I promise you. But I can’t do that if I’m worried about you.”
Before I could argue, he was gone. Moving toward the building with Adrian and four other men.
Michael stayed with the SUV. And with me.
“He’ll get her out,” Michael said, not looking at me. “The boss doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve worked for Dante Marchetti for eight years. Trust me. I know.”
I watched the building entrance. Watched as Dante and his men disappeared inside.
And then I waited.
Five minutes felt like five hours.
Finally, movement. The door opened.
Dante emerged first. Then Adrian. Between them, they supported a woman.
Jade.
She was conscious. Walking. But there was blood on her face, and she was limping.
I was out of the SUV before Michael could stop me.
“Jade!”
She looked up, saw me. “Sofia—what the hell—”
Then she saw Dante. Recognition flashed across her face. “Oh. Oh shit.”
“Get her in the car,” Dante ordered. “We need to move. Now.”
Adrian and Michael helped Jade into the second SUV. I climbed in beside her.
“Are you okay? What did he do? Did he—”
“I’m fine. Mostly.” She touched her split lip, winced. “Asshole sucker-punched me when I wouldn’t tell him where you were.”
“I’m so sorry. God, Jade, I’m so—”
“Where’s Sterling?” Dante appeared at the SUV door, his voice lethal.
Jade looked at him. Really looked at him. “You’re him. The mafia guy. Lucia’s father.”
“Answer the question.”
“He left about ten minutes before you showed up. Said if I saw Sofia to give her a message.”
“Which is?”
Jade’s eyes found mine. “He said the files aren’t the only thing he knows about. He said there’s more. Something about New York. About what really happened the night you left.”
Ice flooded my veins.
Because there was more. Something I’d buried even deeper than the files.
Something I’d hoped would never come to light.
Dante’s eyes locked on mine. “What is she talking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying. Again.”
“Dante—”
“What happened the night you left New York, Sofia? What else aren’t you telling me?”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe.
Because the night I left, I’d witnessed something. Something I was never supposed to see.
A murder.
In Dante’s club. Committed by someone in his organization.
And I’d run before I could identify who.
“Sofia.” Dante’s voice was dangerous now. “Tell me.”
“There was a man,” I whispered. “In your club. The night I left. I saw him… I saw someone kill him.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“You witnessed a hit.” It wasn’t a question.
“I didn’t see who did it. It was dark. I just saw the body. And I ran.”
“And you never told me.”
“I was terrified! I thought if you knew I’d seen something, you’d—” I stopped.
“You’d what? Kill you?” The hurt in his voice was worse than anger would have been. “You really thought I’d—”
“I didn’t know what to think!”
Dante stepped back. Ran both hands through his hair. When he looked at me again, his expression was unreadable.
“Get her medical attention,” he told Adrian. “Then take them both to the plane. We’re leaving for New York. Now.”
“Boss—”
“Now, Adrian.”
He walked away. Leaving me sitting there with the weight of my secrets crushing me.
Jade grabbed my hand. “Sofia, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
I looked at her bloody face. At the building where she’d been attacked. At the SUV full of armed men.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “But I think it’s about to get a lot worse.”
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