My stomach dropped. “And Dante’s father found out.”
“Yeah.” Angelo’s jaw clenched. “Dante did the interrogation. He roughed Benson up a bit. But he didn’t kill him. I can promise you that.”
“Then why?—”
“Because Caruso’s been obsessed with taking down the Valentis for years,” Angelo interrupted. “And Dante’s the easiest target. He’s young, he’s away from the family, and now he’s got ties to this ranch that Caruso can use to prove Dante’s got a history of getting what he wants through any means necessary.”
I felt sick. “So, what do we do?”
Angelo pulled out his phone. “First, I need to call Mr. Valenti. Let him know what happened. Then we need to get the Valenti family lawyer down here as fast as possible.” He paused, his expression grim. “We’ll need to have a meeting with your family to get the story straight. If the cops find out that Dante forced you into marriage, it won’t matter if they can prove the murders. They’ll put him behind bars, anyway.”
“Heather’s gonna turn him in,” I said, panic welling up inside me. “She hates him. She won’t even hesitate?—”
“Leave Heather to me,” Angelo replied. “Now I need you to give me permission to go through your house, top to bottom.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he was asking through the fog of panic. “What? Why?”
“Because if the cops come back with a search warrant—and they will—we need to make sure there’s nothing here that connects Dante to anything illegal. No paperwork, no weapons, nothing that could be used against him.” Angelo’s expression was deadly serious. “I know where Dante keeps things. I can get rid of anything problematic before they show up.”
My mind reeled. This was evidence tampering. Obstruction of justice. All the things I’d been raised to believe were wrong. But this was Dante. My husband. The man I loved.
“Angelo…” I said slowly, looking up at him as the panic threatened to overtake me. “I need you to tell me the absolute truth right now.”
“Anything.”
“Are the Bensons dead?”
Angelo reached out, his hands resting on my shoulders. “Last thing I knew, they were alive.”
I nodded, feeling the tiniest bit of relief. “Alright. Do it,” I said, the words coming out steadier than I felt. “Whatever you need to do in the house, just do it.”
Angelo nodded and headed inside without another word. I followed him, watching as he moved through our tiny house with purpose, opening drawers and checking behind furniture. He pulled out Dante’s laptop first, tucking it under his arm.
“This goes to the main house,” he said. “Your dad has a safe, right?”
“Yeah, in his office.”
“Good. Anything sensitive on here needs to disappear.” He moved to the bedroom next, and I trailed after him, feeling useless. He checked under the mattress, in the closet, behind the dresser. When he found Dante’s gun in the nightstand, he pulled it out and checked the serial number.
“This one’s clean,” he muttered. “Registered properly. They can have this one if they want it.” He set it back carefully. “But if there are any others...”
“There aren’t,” I said. “At least, not that I know of.”
Angelo gave me a look that suggested Dante probably had more weapons stashed somewhere, but he didn’t press. Instead, he moved to the small desk where Dante had been doing paperwork. He rifled through the files, pulling out several folders.
“These are ranch documents,” he said, scanning them quickly. “Nothing incriminating. But this...” He held up a manila envelope. “This has to go.”
“What is it?”
“The contract for the ranch loan and your marriage.” He tucked it under his arm with the laptop. “If they think you’re complicit in anything, or if they can prove the marriage was coerced...” He trailed off, but I understood the implication.
If they could prove Dante had forced me into this marriage, I’d lose my spousal privilege. I’d have to testify against him. And anything I knew could be used to put him away for the rest of his life.
“Are there other copies?”
“No,” Angelo replied, glancing down at the folder. “Enzo ordered Dante to send copies so the prenup could be filed officially in case you ever turned on him.” He looked up at me. “But Dante never did it.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Why not?”
