Chapter 516: Citylights
Chapter 516: Citylights
Chapter 516: Citylights
Dante didn't stop running until the alley disappeared behind them.
Isabella kept pace beside him, her hand locked around his. Marco followed several steps behind.
They slipped between two parked delivery trucks. Dante pressed himself against one and listened.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
No footsteps.
For the moment, they were safe.
Isabella caught her breath.
“Your idea of a romantic evening is terrible.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Marco reached them.
“We can't stay here.”
Dante looked at him.
“What did Clara mean?”
Marco's expression tightened.
“I don't know.”
Dante stared at him.
“You're lying.”
“She said my mother betrayed Adrian.”
Marco looked away.
“Your mother had secrets.”
“When?”
“Before your father died.”
Dante felt anger rise.
“Why?”
“She wanted to negotiate your father's life.”
Marco continued.
“Your mother met Adrian once.”
Dante frowned.
“What would she have betrayed?”
Marco hesitated.
“His location.”
“No.”
Dante's voice hardened.
“Your mother met Adrian once.”
“When?”
“Before your father died.”
Dante felt anger rise.
“Why?”
“She wanted to negotiate your father's life.”
Marco continued.
“Your mother met Adrian once.”
Dante frowned.
“What would she have betrayed?”
Marco hesitated.
“His location.”
Dante's eyes widened.
“She told my father where Adrian's men were going to find him?”
“No. She told Adrian where your father would be.”
Dante felt anger rise in his chest.
“She sent him there?”
“She believed she could control what happened.”
“And could she?”
Marco shook his head.
“No.”
Dante turned away.
For years, he had imagined his mother as gentle and untouchable.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
Isabella touched his arm.
“She was trying to save him,” Marco said.
“By sending him to die?”
“By giving Adrian something he wanted.”
Dante turned sharply.
“And what did Adrian want?”
Marco looked directly at him.
“You.”
Dante froze.
“Me?”
“Adrian knew your father would never cooperate if you were threatened. Your mother knew that too.”
Isabella's face went pale.
“So she used herself as leverage.”
Marco nodded.
“She offered Adrian access to you.”
Dante's voice became cold.
“What does that mean?”
“She promised to bring you to him if he spared your father.”
Dante stepped back.
“She was going to hand me over?”
“She never intended to.”
“Then what happened?”
“She planned to get you out of the country before Adrian could reach you.”
Dante looked at Isabella.
“Did she?”
Marco shook his head.
“Your father found out.”
“And he stopped her.”
“He told her he would rather die than let Adrian use his son.”
Dante closed his eyes.
His father had known.
His mother had known.
Clara had known.
Everyone had known except him.
Isabella took his hand.
“You deserved the truth.”
“I deserved a childhood.”
Marco's voice softened.
“Your father believed protecting you meant keeping you ignorant.”
Dante looked at him.
“And now?”
“Now you're old enough to choose.”
A black sedan rolled slowly past.
All three went silent.
Dante waited until it disappeared.
“We need somewhere they won't think to look.”
Isabella looked at him.
“Where?”
Dante remembered the photograph.
His father standing outside the estate.
The words written on the back.
He is everything.
“My father's old house.”
Marco shook his head immediately.
“Too obvious.”
“Not the estate.”
Dante pulled out his phone.
“The house he bought before the estate.”
Marco stared.
“I didn't know about that.”
They reached a rented car.
Dante drove north while Marco watched the road behind them.
The old house stood beyond a line of trees, abandoned and swallowed by weeds.
Dante unlocked the door.
Dust covered the furniture.
Isabella walked into the living room.
“It feels like someone left yesterday.”
Dante nodded.
“My father used this place when he needed to disappear.”
Marco looked around.
“He never brought us here.”
Dante walked toward the fireplace.
He remembered being there once.
He had been eleven when his father brought him here and told him never to tell his mother.
At the time, Dante had thought it was a game.
Now he understood.
He knelt and searched beneath the stone ledge.
His fingers found a loose panel.
Inside was a small black box.
Isabella crouched beside him.
“What is it?”
Dante opened it.
A key.
A photograph.
And a handwritten letter.
The letter was addressed to him.
Dante unfolded it.
Dante, if you are reading this, then Clara failed to keep you away from the truth.
His hands trembled.
Trust Clara. Trust Marco only when he tells you about the night I died.
Dante stopped reading.
He looked at Marco.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Marco went completely still.
Dante held up the letter.
“My father specifically said you know what happened the night he died.”
Marco closed his eyes.
“I do.”
“Then tell me.”
“I promised him I would wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“For you to be ready.”
Dante reached for the fireplace.
“I'm ready.”
Marco looked at Isabella, then back at Dante.
“Your father didn't die at Adrian's hands.”
Dante stared.
“Then who killed him?”
Marco's voice cracked.
“I did.”
Isabella gasped.
Dante couldn't move.
“You?”
“I was ordered to.”
“By Adrian?”
Marco shook his head.
“By your mother.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Dante reached for the edge of the fireplace.
“Why?”
Marco's eyes filled with regret.
“Because your father had discovered where Clara had hidden the evidence.”
“And?”
“He was going to expose everything.”
Dante stared at him.
“Then why kill him?”
“Because he believed exposing Adrian would put you in greater danger.”
Marco's voice broke.
“Your father asked me to make it look like an accident.”
Dante's face went blank.
“He asked you to kill him?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because Adrian had already found you.”
Marco continued.
“Your father knew there was only one way to make Adrian believe the Moretti family had been destroyed.”
Dante whispered, “His death.”
“Yes.”
“And my mother knew.”
“She knew everything.”
Dante looked at the letter again.
For the first time, the truth wasn't hidden anymore.
His father had chosen death.
His mother had chosen betrayal.
Marco had carried the guilt.
Clara had carried the evidence.
Dante folded the letter.
“We find Clara.”
Marco nodded.
“And then?”
Dante looked at Isabella.
Her eyes were steady.
He took her hand.
“Then we end Adrian.”
A car engine sounded outside.
Dante turned toward the window.
Headlights appeared between the trees.
Marco reached for his weapon.
“They found us.”
Dante pulled Isabella behind him.
“Stay close.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I am.”
Dante looked at the headlights.
For twenty years, his family had survived by hiding secrets.
Tonight, he was done hiding.
He opened the black box again and found one final piece of paper beneath the key.
An address.
And beneath it, Clara had written three words.
Come alone, Dante.
He looked at Isabella.
She already knew what he was thinking.
“No.”
“I have to go.”
“Not alone.”
Dante smiled.
“I was hoping you'd say that.”
Together, they watched the cars stop outside.
The doors opened.
Men stepped into the darkness.
Dante raised his weapon.
Isabella stood beside him.
Whatever waited beyond the door, they would face it together.
Dante finally understood what his father had died protecting.
Family wasn't only blood.
It was the person who stayed when the truth became unbearable.
And Isabella stayed.