Chapter 26 The Devil's Bargain
Dante stood at his apartment window, watching Rome's lights blur through the rain.
Forty-eight hours since the rooftop kiss. Forty-eight hours of Bruno's surveillance photos circulating, of anonymous threats, of feeling walls close in from every direction.
His phone showed three missed calls from Aria. He hadn't answered any of them.
Couldn't. Not until he figured out how to tell her the truth without destroying everything.
A knock at the door shattered his thoughts. Sharp. Precise. Not Rocco's casual rhythm or Leone's heavy thud.
Dante's hand moved to the gun tucked at his back. "Who is it?"
"Someone who knows exactly who you are, Mr. Moretti."
A woman's voice. Cultured. Dangerous.
Dante opened the door with the gun already drawn.
The woman standing there didn't flinch. Tall, elegant, dressed in black like she was in permanent mourning. Ice-blue eyes that looked straight through him.
"Isabetta Romano." She smiled, cold and sharp. "Camilla Salvini's sister. Aria's aunt. And the person who's been investigating you for the past three months." She glanced at the gun. "Are you going to shoot me, or are we going to have a civilized conversation about how to kill Bruno Salvini?"
Dante's finger stayed on the trigger. "I don't know what you're—"
"Please. Don't insult my intelligence." She walked past him into the apartment like she owned it. "Dante Moretti. Born 1990. Sole survivor of the Moretti family massacre orchestrated by Bruno Salvini in 2005. Changed your name, built a criminal empire, and spent twenty years planning revenge." She turned to face him. "Did I miss anything?"
Dante kicked the door shut, gun still trained on her. "How did you find me?"
"I'm a private investigator. It's what I do." Isabetta settled onto his couch, completely unbothered by the weapon pointed at her head. "I've been tracking Bruno for fifteen years. When a mysterious mafia king started asking questions about him six months ago, I noticed. When that same man ended up in the hospital under the care of Bruno's daughter?" She smiled. "I knew exactly what you were planning."
"Then you know I can't let you leave here alive."
"You could try to kill me. But I have insurance files that go public if I don't check in every twelve hours. Everything I know about you. About your real identity. About your plan to seduce Aria Salvini for revenge." Isabetta crossed her legs. "So why don't you put the gun down and we discuss how we can help each other instead?"
Dante lowered the weapon slowly. "Why would I need your help?"
"Because you're in love with her."
The words hit like a physical blow.
"I'm not—"
"Don't lie. I've been watching you both. The way you look at her has changed. Three weeks ago, you watched her like prey. Now you watch her like she's the only light in your darkness." Isabetta's expression was almost pitiful. "You're compromised, Mr. Moretti. And that makes you vulnerable."
Dante's jaw clenched. "What do you want?"
"The same thing you do. Bruno Salvini died." She leaned forward. "But here's your problem you're going to break that girl's heart and let him live. You'll expose him, ruin him, destroy his empire. But you won't kill him. Because you know it would destroy Aria, and you can't do that to someone you love."
"You don't know what I'm capable of."
"I know exactly what you're capable of. I know about the warehouse fire tonight. About Konstantin Volkov and his men burning alive while you watched." Isabetta's smile was sharp. "But I also know you spent the past hour staring at your phone, too afraid to call the woman you claim not to love because you're terrified she'll see the monster you really are."
Dante said nothing. Because she was right.
"I've waited fifteen years for justice," Isabetta continued. "Bruno killed my sister when she discovered his organ trafficking operation. Made it look like a car accident. Left her ten-year-old daughter orphaned and alone." Her voice hardened. "I'm done waiting. I'm done planning. I want him dead. And you're going to help me."
"Or?"
"Or I tell Aria everything right now. Tonight. Before you have a chance to spin it, to make yourself the victim, to manipulate her into forgiving you." Isabetta pulled out her phone. "I have recordings. You are talking to Rocco about using her. Discussing the revenge plan. Calling her 'collateral damage.'"
Dante's blood ran cold. "When—"
"Three weeks ago. I've had surveillance on you since you started seeing her." She played a snippet Dante's own voice, clinical and cold, discussing strategy with Rocco. Discussing Aria like she was a tool, not a person.
It was damning. Undeniable.
"Here's my offer," Isabetta said, stopping the playback. "Help me kill Bruno. Actually kill him, not just destroy his reputation. And I'll keep your secrets until you're ready to tell Aria yourself."
"Why would you help me?"
"I'm not helping you. I'm using you, the same way you've been using my niece." She stood, moving to the window. "But unlike you, I'm honest about it. I want Bruno dead for what he did to Camilla. You want him dead for what he did to your family. Our goals align."
"And Aria?"
"That's your problem, not mine. Break her heart or don't. Use her or protect her. I don't care." Isabetta turned back to face him. "But Bruno dies. That's non-negotiable."
Dante studied this woman who looked like she could be Aria's mother same bone structure, same elegant features, but harder. Colder. Broken in ways that hadn't healed.
"What's your plan?" he asked.
"Friday night. Aria's having dinner with Lorenzo Lazzari. Bruno's testing her loyalty, seeing if she'll choose family over you. While she's occupied, Bruno will be vulnerable. Distracted. That's when we strike."
"Strike how?"
Isabetta pulled a file from her bag, set it on the table. "Everything you need. Guard schedules. Security protocols. His routines. Weaknesses." She paused. "And something else. Proof of the organ trafficking operation he's been running through Sant'Angelo Hospital."
Dante opened the file. Medical records. Death certificates. All signed by Dr. Aria Salvini.
His chest tightened. "She doesn't know."
"Of course she doesn't. Bruno's been forging her signature for years. Using her credentials to facilitate black market organ sales. She thinks she only saves lives." Isabetta's voice was bitter. "She has no idea how many deaths she's unknowingly caused."
Dante stared at Aria's signature on document after document. Innocent. Trusting. Completely unaware her father had been using her.
Just like Dante had been using her.
"If I expose Bruno….." he started.
"You expose her too. Yes." Isabetta's smile was cruel. "See your dilemma? You can't destroy the father without destroying the daughter. They're tied together in ways even Aria doesn't understand."
"Then we don't expose it. We just killed him."
"And risk her spending the rest of her life mourning a man who doesn't deserve it? Risk her never knowing the truth about what he was?" Isabetta shook her head. "No. She deserves the truth. Even if it destroys her."
"You're willing to destroy your own niece for revenge."
"I'm willing to tell her the truth her mother died trying to reveal. That's not destruction, that's liberation." Isabetta moved to the door. "You have until Friday. Help me kill Bruno, or I tell Aria everything tonight. Your choice, Mr. Moretti."
She paused at the door, hand on the knob.
"One more thing. That wire device I gave her yesterday? It's been transmitting since I pressed it into her palm. Every conversation. Every private moment." Her smile was vicious. "So when you had that lovely chat in her apartment about being in love with her? I heard every word. And I have it recorded."
Dante's hands clenched into fists. "You used her—"
"Just like you did. The difference is, I'm honest about it." Isabetta opened the door. "Friday, Dante. Make your choice. Bruno's life or Aria's trust. You can't have both."
Then she was gone, leaving Dante alone with a file full of evidence that would destroy everyone he'd come to care about.
He pulled out his phone, stared at Aria's contact.
Called Rocco instead.
"We have a problem," Dante said when his friend answered. "Isabetta Romano knows everything. And she wants Bruno dead by Friday."
"What did you tell her?"
Dante looked at the file. At Aria's forged signatures. At evidence of crimes she didn't know she'd committed.
"I told her I'd think about it."
"And?"
"And I'm going to kill Bruno Salvini." Dante's voice was empty. Cold. " I'm doing it my way. Not hers."
He hung up and opened the file again, memorizing details. Guard rotations. Security weaknesses. The perfect moment to strike.
Friday night. While Aria was at dinner with Lorenzo Lazzari, proving her loyalty to a father who'd been using her for years.
Dante would end this. Would give both Isabetta and himself the revenge they'd waited decades for.
And then he'd tell Aria the truth. All of it.
Even if it meant watching her shatter.
Even if it meant losing the only good thing that had happened to him in twenty years.
Because Isabetta was right about one thing—Aria deserved the truth.
Even if the truth destroyed them both.