Dismissed.
Chapter 29
Dante
Icouldn’t breathe. Couldn’t process what I’d just heard. The courtroom erupted into chaos around me. Reporters shouted, people stood, cameras flashed, but all I could do was sit there, my hands still cuffed, trying to comprehend that I was free.
Sullivan was saying something to me, his hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t hear him over the roaring in my ears. A bailiff came over to remove my cuffs, and the metal fell away from my wrists with a click that felt like the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
I stood on shaky legs and turned toward the gallery. Nick was already pushing through the crowd, his face streaked with tears, and then he was there, his arms around me, holding me so tight I could barely breathe.
“You’re okay,” he gasped against my neck. “You’re okay, you’re coming home.”
I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder as the cameras continued to flash, and let myself fall apart. All the fear and anger and desperation I’d been holding in for the past two days came pouring out, and I held onto Nick like he was the only solid thing in the world.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ve got you, Dante. You’re safe.”
Someone cleared their throat behind us, and I reluctantly pulled back to find my father standing there. Enzo’s expression was still unreadable, but his eyes were softer than I’d ever seen them.
“We need to talk,” he said quietly. “But not here. Let’s go home.”
Home. The word hit me hard. Did he mean Jersey? Or was he talking about Montana? About the ranch and the tiny house and the life I’d built with Nick?
As if reading my mind, Enzo’s lips quirked into something that might have been a smile. “Montana,” he clarified. “Your home. With your husband.”
I felt Nick’s hand tighten in mine, and I nodded, not trusting my voice.
We pushed through the crowd, Sullivan and the bodyguard clearing a path. Reporters shouted questions that we ignored, cameras flashed, and I kept my head down, focused only on getting out of there. Behind us, I could hear Caruso arguing with someone, his voice rising in desperation, but I didn’t look back.
Outside, the morning sun was too bright after the dim courtroom. A massive black SUV waited at the curb, and we piled in, everyone fitting comfortably. The bodyguard took the driver’s seat, and we pulled away from the courthouse as more reporters ran after us.
Nobody spoke for the first few minutes. I sat pressed against Nick’s side, his hand still gripping mine like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. My father stared out the window, his jaw tight. Angelo looked like he might throw up from relief. And Heather... Heather was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“Thank you,” I said finally, my voice rough. “All of you. For coming. For bringing the Bensons back.”
“Marco and Angelo did most of the heavy lifting,” my father said. “Convincing the Bensons to testify wasn’t easy. They were terrified of coming back, afraid you’d changed your mind about letting them live.”
“I would never—” I started.
“I know.” Enzo finally looked at me. “That’s what Marco told them. That my son, despite everything I taught him, has a conscience.” He paused. “I’m disappointed in you.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
“But.” His expression softened slightly. “Today, your soft heart saved your life. If the Bensons were actually dead, I don’t know if we could’ve saved you from prison time.” He pointed a finger at me, still looking annoyed. “But I need a full list of everyone I told you to take care of so I can check up on them. Angelo said there might be thirty or more and we need to make sure they aren’t going to talk.”
Nick’s hand tightened in mine again, and I saw Heather’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Thirty?” she repeated.
“Give or take,” Angelo muttered.
The drive to the airport felt surreal. I kept expecting someone to stop us, to tell me this was all a mistake, that I was still facing charges. But nobody did. We boarded a private plane at the airport, my father included. Within an hour we were in the air and out of reach of anyone and everyone in New Jersey.
“Now,” Enzo said, the moment we were all alone. “Here’s how this is going to go.”
I sat up straight, waiting for him to berate me in front of everyone. Nick was pressed to my side, his fingers still laced through mine. My father, it seemed, didn’t scare him at all. Maybe Nick was a lot tougher than I thought.
“First off, Caruso will never work in law enforcement again. I’ll make sure of that. And I’ll also make sure that his evidence against the Valentis goes missing.” He pointed a finger at me. “You are banished from New Jersey.Permanently. Hell, I don’t even want to see you on the east coast.”
