Two cars go in front and another two follow. Dante is taking his promise to keep me safe seriously. Although, I doubt I’ll run into Leander anywhere on these streets. This is Dante’s territory now. The last time I checked my brother’s social media status, which he flaunts stupidly for the whole world to see, he was living in a mansion on the other side of the city.
My father forbade us to have social media accounts. He told Leander on more than one occasion how important it was to maintain privacy in our lives, but Leander always liked the attention. He still loves to pose in white linen suits on multi-million dollar-yachts in Monaco and showing off the thick gold watch on his wrist while leaning on a red Ferrari at the Grand Prix.
He’s even gone as far as posting photos of himself and some sheik with their pupils shot wide at a party with naked girls in the pool. I wonder what my father would’ve said if he could’ve seen Leander now. I’m sure he’d never have allowed him to go so far off the rails. He would’ve sent his men to drag my brother back to the house, and he would’ve chained him in the basement just like he did with my cousin to get him clean and sober when he got addicted to alcohol and heroin.
After that, my cousin simply disappeared. We weren’t close, and I didn’t know him very well, but when I asked my father about him, he just told me my cousin didn’t make it. I was too much of a coward to ask what that meant, but I had a good idea.
The closer we get to the condo, the sicker I feel. The sensation is born from both nostalgia and bad memories. I guess part of the problem is that after what happened, I never got closure.
Ulysses drops us off at the front entrance of the apartment building. We’re met by a small army of Dante’s men who form a tight circle around us.
The doorman greets Dante respectfully. He must recognize me, because his face transforms with surprise and then with alarm.
He jumps to attention from behind his desk, fumbling with his uniform jacket. “Good afternoon, Miss Teszner. I trust you are well.”
The minute the words leave his mouth, his face flushes red. He must’ve realized what a stupid thing that was to say. Everyone knows I disappeared after my parents were murdered.
I smile, not showing how much I’m shaking inside. “How are Clara and Monica?”
“Big.” He grins from ear to ear. “Ten and twelve, and keeping their poor mother busy.”
“I’m glad they’re doing well.”
Dante steers me into the elevator. I hold my breath until we reach the top floor, letting it out slowly as he guides me to the door with his fingers wrapped around my upper arm.
The fact that he has a key to let us in catches me off guard even though it shouldn’t. It just somehow feels wrong.
The imposing interior is exactly the same as I remember. The statues of Greek gods still line the foyer with its gold-veined marble floor. The antique vase stands on the cherrywood table in the center, holding a bouquet of white lilies. It even smells the same. Someone must’ve refreshed the potpourri my mom left in bowls in every room.
Dante closes the door and locks it. His men remain outside. He removes his jacket and hangs it in the coat closet like someone who knows his way around and who’s at home here. And why shouldn’t he be? He said he sleeps here when he works late.
He takes my bag and places it on the ornate table with the hand-carved bone inlays. It’s the only piece of furniture my mother brought with her when she married my father.
“Come.” He goes ahead of me down the hallway. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
I follow him on autopilot, looking left and right at the familiar paintings on the walls. No family photos. Just pieces of art that are worth millions. The photos stayed in my mom’s room on her dresser. She must’ve had at least twenty silver frames with pictures of Leander and me at different ages.
Dante’s steps fall heavy on the marble floor. They echo off the walls under the high ceilings. Another set of footsteps sound on the other side of the hallway, only lighter and faster.
I stop dead, my pulse going through the roof. I expect to see a ghost. In an instant, I’m transported to the past, coming home from shopping. I hear my mom before I see her as her low heels click a path over the floor from the kitchen at the end of the long hallway.
She comes toward me with a big smile, cupping my face between her hands and kissing my forehead. “You’re home, honey. I was getting worried. Are you hungry? I made minestrone soup, your favorite.”
I’m lost in the memory, falling through time. I only know I’m not dreaming because of how much it hurts and how difficult it is to breathe.
But then our housekeeper, Emily, rounds the corner, and I’m thrust back into the present as I take in the yachting sports shirt and slacks she’s always favored. With her gray hair that’s tied in a neat bun in her nape and her clean-scrubbed face, she looks exactly like she did the last time I saw her.
“Dante.” She goes to him quickly, kissing his cheeks affectionately. “You should’ve told me you were coming. I would’ve cooked dinner.”
Betrayal slices like a red-hot blade through me. I trusted Emily. I believed she was loyal. I thought she left after Mom’s death or that she worked for Leander. But here she is, kissing Dante like a long-lost son after everything he did to us. To my mom. To me.
His smile is warm. “I’m not staying.” Turning sideways, he allows her a clear view of me where I’ve paused at the top of the hallway. “I brought someone with me.”
Emily must sense the disaster. Her sixth sense has always been sharp. Her face loses all color even before she looks my way. And when she finally faces me, she resembles one of those Greek statues, standing frozen to the spot as if she’s been turned into stone.
It takes her a moment to find her voice. “Tatiana.” She takes a step closer. “You’re alive.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Brown.”
