Chapter 520: Vanished
Chapter 520: Vanished
Chapter 520: Vanished
Dante and Isabella reached the car without speaking.
The estate disappeared behind them as Dante drove through the dark streets, the black ledger secured beneath his jacket. Every turn seemed to carry him farther from the life he had known and deeper into the one his father had spent twenty years trying to escape.
Isabella watched him from the passenger seat.
“You’re quiet.”
Dante kept his eyes on the road.
“I’m thinking.”
“About Adrian?”
“About my mother.”
He tightened his hands around the steering wheel.
“If Adrian wasn’t telling the truth about her, then everything I believed about her is wrong.”
“Maybe everything you believed was only part of the truth.”
Dante glanced at her.
“You always know how to make things sound less terrible.”
“I don’t think it sounds less terrible.”
She reached across the console.
“I just don’t want you carrying it alone.”
Dante took her hand.
For several miles, they drove in silence.
Then Marco spoke from the back seat.
“We can’t go to any of our usual places.”
Dante looked in the mirror.
“I know.”
“The ledger makes us more dangerous than before.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian doesn’t need to kill you anymore.”
Dante frowned.
“He needs the ledger.”
“No,” Marco said. “He needs what the ledger can lead him to.”
“The witnesses.”
Marco nodded.
“There are six.”
Dante thought about the list.
“Clara was one.”
“Once.”
“Five remain.”
“Five that Adrian will already be hunting.”
Isabella looked at Dante.
“Then we need to reach them first.”
Dante nodded.
“Do we know where the first one is?”
Marco hesitated.
“The name on the list is Victor Santoro.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“Victor?”
“You know him?”
“My father mentioned him once.”
“Who is he?”
“A former accountant.”
Marco shook his head.
“Not just an accountant. He handled Adrian’s private accounts.”
“And he survived?”
“Because he disappeared.”
Dante looked at the road.
“Where?”
“Detroit.”
Isabella frowned.
“That’s a long way.”
“Which is why Adrian may not expect us to go tonight.”
Dante smiled faintly.
“Then we’re going tonight.”
They stopped at a gas station outside the city.
Dante bought water, medical supplies, and coffee. When he returned, Isabella was standing beside the car.
“You need to eat.”
“So do you.”
“I ate.”
“You had half a sandwich.”
“That counts.”
“No.”
Dante handed her a bottle of water.
She smiled.
“You’re becoming bossy.”
“I was always bossy.”
“True.”
For a moment, they were almost normal.
Then Dante’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Dante Moretti.”
A man’s voice replied.
“You took something that belongs to Adrian.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Tell him to come get it.”
“You don’t understand what you’ve taken.”
“I understand enough.”
The caller laughed.
“You have twelve hours.”
“For what?”
“Before the first witness dies.”
The line went dead.
Dante stared at the phone.
Isabella’s smile disappeared.
“They know.”
“Apparently.”
Marco leaned forward.
“Who was it?”
“Someone working for Adrian.”
Dante started the engine.
“They gave us twelve hours.”
“To reach Victor?”
Dante nodded.
“And now they know we’re coming.”
The drive toward Detroit became a race against the clock.
Rain began falling before midnight.
The highway stretched ahead beneath a gray sky.
Isabella eventually fell asleep against the window.
Dante looked at her and felt something inside him loosen.
He had spent his entire life believing love made people vulnerable.
Now he understood the opposite.
Love gave people something worth surviving for.
Near the state line, Marco finally spoke.
“There’s something else.”
Dante sighed.
“Every time you say that, my life gets worse.”
Marco ignored him.
“Your father didn’t just hide the witnesses.”
“What else did he do?”
“He created an escape network.”
“For them?”
“For you.”
Dante looked at him.
“What?”
“Your father knew Adrian might eventually find you. He created safe identities, accounts, passports, properties.”
“And never told me.”
“He wanted you to have a life outside the family.”
Dante laughed quietly.
“My father really thought I could escape.”
“He wanted you to.”
Isabella stirred awake.
“What’s happening?”
Dante looked at her.
“Apparently my father spent years preparing a life for me in case everything collapsed.”
She smiled sleepily.
“Sounds like he loved you.”
Dante looked back at the road.
“Maybe he did.”
The words were difficult for him to say.
But they were true.
Three hours later, they reached Detroit.
Marco directed Dante toward an old neighborhood near the river.
Victor’s address was an abandoned-looking brick house between two boarded storefronts.
Dante parked across the street.
“No lights,” Isabella said.
“Could be empty.”
“Or a trap.”
Dante checked his weapon.
“Both are possible.”
They crossed the street.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, the house smelled of dust.
Dante called out.
“Victor Santoro?”
Nothing.
They searched the first floor.
Empty.
Then Isabella noticed something.
“Dante.”
She pointed toward the kitchen.
A coffee cup sat on the counter.
Still warm.
Dante touched it.
“He left recently.”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
They froze.
Dante raised his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
Isabella gave him a look.
“Don’t start.”
He almost smiled.
They climbed the stairs.
At the top stood an elderly man holding a revolver.
“Don’t move.”
Dante stopped.
“Victor?”
The man stared at him.
“You look like him.”
“My father?”
Victor’s gun lowered slightly.
“Your father promised me I would never have to see another Moretti.”
“He kept you hidden.”
“He failed.”
Dante stepped forward.
“We need your help.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“You don’t need my help. You need the truth.”
“Then give it to me.”
Victor studied Isabella.
“And she?”
“She stays.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“Then you really are your father’s son.”
Dante frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Victor lowered the gun.
“It means your father trusted the right person.”
He walked toward a locked cabinet.
Inside was a photograph.
Dante stared at it.
His father stood beside Victor, Clara, and another woman.
Isabella moved closer.
“That woman…”
Victor nodded.
“Your mother.”
Dante’s heart raced.
Victor handed him the photograph.
“She wasn’t working against your father.”
“Then what was she doing?”
Victor looked toward the window.
“Building the plan that would destroy Adrian.”
A car stopped outside.
Victor’s face went pale.
“They found us.”
Dante moved toward the window.
Three black SUVs blocked the street.
Men stepped out.
Isabella reached for his hand.
“What do we do?”
Dante looked at Victor.
“Finish what our parents started.”
Victor smiled sadly.
“Then you had better listen carefully.”
He opened the cabinet again.
Behind the photograph was a small envelope.
“Your mother left this for you.”
Dante took it.
On the front were five words.
“Dante, trust Isabella with everything.”
He looked at her.
For the first time since Adrian had spoken her name, the doubt disappeared.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a single address.
And beneath it, one final warning.
“The second witness is already dead.”
Dante looked toward the street.
The SUVs were closing in.
He folded the note.
“Then we have ten hours.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward Isabella.
“You have less than that.”
The first gunshot shattered the window.
Dante pulled Isabella down as glass rained across the room. Victor grabbed his gun, Marco moved toward the stairs, and Dante realized Adrian had finally made his move.
And it was real.