But the gunshot cuts him off mid-sentence.
I turn away from the monitor and press both hands over my mouth to keep from screaming.
He just killed him. Dante just executed that man in cold blood without a second of hesitation.
“Mama?” Luca’s stops humming, and his voice is muffled against my shoulder. “Can I look now? I heard a loud noise.”
“Not yet, baby. Just a little longer. Keep your eyes closed for Mama.”
On the monitors, Dante is already walking out of that room like he didn’t just put a bullet in someone’s brain. Like killing is as natural as breathing.
I watch him move through the house giving orders to his security team. Watch them drag bodies toward what looks like a service entrance. Watch them clean up the evidence like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
Then Dante turns toward the camera and starts walking in the direction of the safe room.
“He’s coming,” Rosa says quietly.
I stand up with Luca still in my arms, keeping his face pressed firmly against my shoulder.
The lock disengages and the door swings open slowly. And there he is.
Dante Moretti stood, covered in blood spatter. Some of it on his face. More on his white shirt that’s no longer white. His hands are clean though, like he washed them before coming down here.
His eyes are cold and empty in a way that makes him look like a complete stranger.
Luca lifts his head to look before I can stop him and immediately starts crying.
“Mama. Mama, he’s scary! I want to go home! Please, I want to go home!”
The sound of my son’s terrified sobs breaks something inside me.
I immediately step between Dante and Luca, every protective instinct screaming at me to put as much distance as possible between them.
“It’s okay, baby. We’re okay. Shh, it’s okay.”
But Luca is sobbing now, his small body shaking against me. “I want to go home! I don’t like it here. I don’t like the scary man. Please, Mama, please!”
I look at Dante over my shoulder and something in his expression cracks. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to see real pain flash across his face before it hardens again into a blank mask.
He looks at his son’s tear-streaked face. At the way Luca is clinging to me and crying. At my defensive posture with my body physically blocking him from getting any closer.
And I watch something go off in his eyes.
“You’re safe for now.” His voice is calm and completely devoid of emotion. “They won’t be coming back.”
Then he turns and walks away without another word.
I stand there in the doorway watching him disappear down the hallway, and the realization hits me like a physical blow to the chest. This is the cost of coming here.
This is what I’ve done by bringing my son to a killer for protection.
Luca is terrified of his own father.
12
DANTE
The blood on my shirt has dried to a stiff, uncomfortable crust by the time I reach my office. But I don’t bother changing.
