Chapter 36 Protection
Dante's POV
The safe house sat thirty kilometers outside Rome, hidden behind olive groves and high stone walls. Dante had bought it years ago for exactly this purpose as a fortress when the city became a battlefield.
Now Aria stood in the main room, arms wrapped around herself, watching his world unfold around her.
Rocco paced near the windows, phone pressed to his ear. "How many? ... Jesus. Okay, pull everyone back to secure locations. No one moves alone."
He hung up, and met Dante's eyes. "Marchetti soldiers are flooding the city. Fifty, maybe more. They've got people watching your clubs, your warehouses, even your apartment building."
"And the price on Aria?" Dante asked.
"One hundred thousand euros to whoever delivers her alive." Rocco's expression was grim. "Every street punk with a gun is going to be looking for her."
Aria's face went pale. "Am I worth that much?"
"Alive," Dante corrected. "Dead, you're worthless to them. They need you to be silenced properly. Public enough to scare other witnesses."
She sank into a chair. "This is insane."
"This is business." Dante moved to the bar, poured whiskey he didn't want. Needed his hands occupied before he put his fist through something. "The Marchettis are sending a message. No one testifies against the family."
His phone buzzed. Marco.
"Talk."
"Your captains are on their way. ETA fifteen minutes." Marco's voice was tight. "Boss, we need to make a decision. Fight or negotiate."
"There's nothing to negotiate."
"Then we're going to war. And wars are expensive."
Dante knew. Wars cost money, soldiers, territory. Cost everything you'd built if you lost.
He looked at Aria, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, exhaustion written in every line of her body. One woman. One witness.
His captains would tell him she wasn't worth it.
They'd be wrong.
"Get everyone here," Dante said. "We're going on offense."
Fifteen minutes later, Dante's war council assembled in the dining room.
Five captains. Each controlling a piece of his empire. Gambling, protection, shipping, real estate, political influence. The framework that made Dante Moretti untouchable.
Until now.
"The Marchettis want the doctor," Antonio Greco said, lighting a cigar. He ran Dante's gambling operations, brutal and efficient. "Give her to them. Problem solved."
Dante's hand tightened on his glass. "No."
"Boss, be realistic." Greco leaned forward. "She's a civilian. Not family, not crew. Why start a war over her?"
"Because I said so."
"That's not good enough." This from Salvatore Costa, who handled political connections. "We lost three men already tonight. How many more die for one woman?"
Aria stood in the doorway. Dante hadn't heard her approach, but there she was, listening to men debate her life like a business transaction.
Their eyes met. Something flickered across her face hurt, maybe. Or understanding that this was his world. Cold calculations and hard choices.
"Gentlemen," Dante said quietly. "The decision is made. We hit the Marchettis before they organize. Target their income streams, their soldiers, their territory. Make Luca Marchetti regret putting a price on what's mine."
Silence around the table.
"What's yours?" Greco's eyebrow rose. "Since when?"
"Since I decided." Dante's voice went cold. "Does anyone have a problem with that?"
No one spoke.
"Good. Rocco, coordinate with Marco. I want targets identified within the hour." Dante stood, signaling the meeting's end. "And spread the word to anyone who touches Dr. Salvini answers to me personally."
The captains filed out, throwing glances at Aria as they passed.
When the room emptied, she stepped inside.
"They're right," she said. "I'm not worth a war."
"That's not your decision."
"People are dying because of me. Your people." Her voice cracked. "How can you justify that?"
"Easily." Dante crossed to her. "The Marchettis don't get to threaten what's mine and walk away. Not you. Not anyone."
"I'm not a possession."
"No. You're something more important." He touched her face, made her look at him. "You're someone I'm choosing to protect. Even if it costs everything."
"Why?" The question was barely a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
Dante didn't have an answer. Didn't understand it himself. She was a complication, a weakness, everything he'd spent years avoiding.
But the thought of handing her over, of Luca Marchetti's men putting a bullet in her head—
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But I'm not letting them have you."
Aria's eyes searched his face. Looking for what, he wasn't sure. Reassurance? Truth? Some sign this was more than just pride and territoriality?
She leaned in, and Dante forgot how to breathe. Her mouth inches from his, close enough to feel her breath—
His phone shattered the moment.
Rocco. "Boss, we have a problem. Marchettis just hit the warehouse in Ostia. Three of our guys are dead, building's burning."
Dante closed his eyes. The cost was already mounting.
"I'll be right there." He hung up, looked at Aria. "Stay inside. Don't go near the windows. Rocco's men are posted outside."
"Dante—"
"I have to handle this. I'll be back soon."
He left before she could argue. Left before he did something stupid like promise her everything would be fine.
In this world, nothing was ever fine.
Aria's POV
Alone in the safe house, Aria opened her laptop.
Antonio Marchetti's file stared back at her. Treatment notes, visitor logs, discharge instructions. Everything she'd photographed before fleeing the hospital.
But something nagged at her. Something Antonio had said in the recovery room, delirious from anesthesia.
"The drive. They can't find the drive."
She'd thought he meant hard drive, like computer equipment. But what if—
Aria pulled up the hospital inventory system, accessed remotely through her credentials. Navigated to patient belongings, Antonio's fake name.
There. One USB flash drive. Catalogued with his personal effects when he'd been admitted. Still in hospital storage because no family had claimed it.
Her heart hammered.
Evidence. Real evidence of whatever Antonio knew about his brother. About the family. About why Luca wanted him dead.
And it was sitting in a storage locker at Sant'Angelo Hospital.
Surrounded by Marchetti soldiers.
Aria stared at the screen. She could tell Dante. He'd send people to retrieve it. Or he'd say it was too dangerous, not worth the risk.
But that drive could end this. Could give them leverage against Luca. Could save Dante from a war he couldn't afford.
She pulled out her phone, hesitating.
Then dialed.
"Aria?" Dr. Ricci answered on the second ring. "My God, are you alright? The rumors at the hospital—"
"I need your help." She kept her voice steady. "I need to get into the hospital. Tonight. Without being seen."
Silence. Then: "That's extremely dangerous. There are men watching the building. Dangerous men."
"I know. But there's something there I need. Evidence that could stop all of this."
"What kind of evidence?"
"A flash drive. It's in patient storage. I can't explain everything, but Carlo, please. You've been my mentor for three years. I'm asking you to trust me."
Another pause. "Where are you?"
"I can't tell you that. But I can meet you at the hospital. You have access codes to the service entrances. The security doesn't monitor it."
"Aria, if something happens to you—"
"Nothing will happen. In and out. Ten minutes." She softened her voice. "Please."
Dr. Ricci sighed. "The northeast service entrance. There's a loading dock that's usually empty after midnight. I can get you in through there."
"Thank you. I'll be there in an hour."
She hung up before he could change his mind.
For a long moment, Aria sat there, phone in hand, knowing this was reckless. Knowing Dante would be furious.
But people were dying. Dante's empire was crumbling. And she had a chance to fix it.
She pulled out paper, wrote quickly:
Dante—
Antonio had a flash drive. Hospital storage. Evidence against Luca. I'm getting it. Don't be angry. This is my choice.
I'm sorry.
—A
She left the note on the table where he'd find it, grabbed her jacket, and slipped out through the kitchen.
Two guards were posted at the front. She went out the back, through the olive grove, to where the property met a service road.
Walking felt like freedom. Like taking control instead of being protected.
It felt like the biggest mistake of her life.
Dante's POV
The warehouse was still smoldering when Dante arrived. Fire crews had contained it, but the damage was done. Three body bags lined the street.
Marco stood beside them, face grim. "Marchetti hit squad. Professional job. In and out in under five minutes."
"Survivors?"
"One. In the hospital. Says they're planning more hits tonight. Trying to bleed us dry."
Dante looked at the burning building. Estimated the loss inventory, equipment, and three good men. The math was brutal.
His phone rang. Rocco.
"Boss, we have a problem."
"Another hit?"
"No. Aria's gone."
Dante's blood went cold. "What?"
"Left through the back. Took the service road. She's been gone twenty minutes." Rocco's voice was tight. "She left a note."
"Read it."
Rocco did.
Antonio had a flash drive. Hospital storage. Evidence against Luca. I'm getting it. Don't be angry. This is my choice.
Dante crushed the phone in his hand. "Get everyone to Sant'Angelo Hospital. Now."
"Boss—"
"NOW!" He was already moving toward his car. "And find out who she contacted. She didn't do this alone."
Two minutes later, Marco called back. "Her phone records show one call. Dr. Carlo Ricci. Surgical director at Sant'Angelo."
"Ricci." The name tasted wrong. "Run his background. Everything."
"Already on it. Boss, Ricci's got some interesting connections. Regular payments from a shell company. Same company that's been laundering money for—"
"The Marchettis."
"Yeah."
Dante's world tilted. Ricci. Aria's mentor. The man she trusted.
Working for Luca Marchetti.
"She walked into a trap," he said.
"I know. We're ten minutes out."
"Drive faster."
Aria's POV
The hospital loading dock was empty, exactly as Dr. Ricci promised.
Aria approached cautiously, scanning the shadows. No movement. No guards.
The service door cracked open. Dr. Ricci's familiar face appeared.
"Quickly," he whispered. "Before someone sees."
Relief flooded through her. She slipped inside, and he locked the door behind them.
"Thank you, Carlo. I know this is—"
The gun appeared so fast she almost didn't register it. Black metal, pointed at her chest.
"I'm sorry, Aria." Dr. Ricci's expression was genuinely regretful. "But Luca Marchetti pays significantly better than the hospital ever could."
Her world stopped.
"You?" The word came out strangled. "You killed Matteo. You killed Yelena."
"Necessary casualties. They knew too much. Just like you." He gestured with the gun. "Move. Basement level. Quietly."
"Carlo, please—"
"I said move."
She moved. Mind racing, looking for exits, for weapons, for anything.
They descended concrete stairs, deeper into the hospital's bowels. Storage rooms and maintenance tunnels. No cameras down here.
No witnesses.
"You should have stayed a surgeon," Ricci said behind her. "Stay in your lane. Instead, you had to ask questions. I had to remember things Antonio said."
"He trusted me."
"He was a fool. Just like his brother said." They reached a storage room. "Inside."
Aria stepped in. Shelves lined the walls, medical supplies stacked to the ceiling. One small window, too high to reach.
Ricci kept the gun trained on her. "Luca's men will be here soon. They'll take you somewhere quiet. Make an example." He checked his watch. "Should be any minute now."
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Multiple people. Heavy boots.
Ricci smiled. "Right on time."
The door swung open.
But the men who entered weren't wearing Marchetti colors.
They wore tactical gear. Federal badges.
And the woman leading them had a face Aria had seen before. In photographs. In her mother's belongings.
Detective Isabella Romano. The investigator who'd closed her mother's case as an accident.
"Dr. Salvini," Romano said, holstering her weapon. "You're safe now. We've been tracking the Marchetti family for eighteen months. And thanks to you, we finally have what we need to bring them down."
Aria's mind spun. Federal agents. Not Marchetti soldiers.
But if they were here—
"Dante," she breathed. "They're going to think—"
"Mr. Moretti is being detained as we speak," Romano said. "Along with his organization. This investigation is bigger than you know, Dr. Salvini."
She pulled out handcuffs.
"And I'm afraid you're going to need to come with us.”