Chapter 7 - The Bride’s ChoiceIsabella entered alone.
Dante’s men had already been disarmed outside.
She stopped at the center aisle.
Her wedding ring remained on her finger.
Dante noticed.
“You brought an army.”
“I brought enough men to keep Vittorio from getting this recording.”
“You could have asked.”
“You stopped trusting me.”
“You stole from me.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Dante almost laughed.
“You have an unusual way of showing affection.”
Her eyes moved toward Elena.
“Where is Sophia?”
Elena stepped forward.
“You tell me.”
Isabella frowned.
“I thought she was with Vittorio.”
“She is.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“Because your men are shooting at us.”
“They were shooting over you.”
Nico muttered:
“Comforting.”
Isabella ignored him.
“Vittorio plans to kill everyone once he gets the recording.”
“Including you?” Dante asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I failed.”
Dante looked at her.
“Failed to do what?”
“Make you trust me enough to access everything.”
That answer hurt more than he expected.
“How much was real?”
Isabella’s face softened.
“At first?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“And later?”
“Everything.”
Dante looked away.
He had faced men with guns without fear.
But there was something uniquely humiliating about learning love had begun as an assignment.
Isabella removed her engagement ring.
She placed it on a pew.
“I know saying I love you doesn’t fix what I did.”
“No.”
“I know.”
Elena interrupted.
“My daughter.”
Isabella nodded.
“Blackwater House has an underground service tunnel. Vittorio doesn’t know I found the original plans.”
She spread a blueprint across the altar.
“We can enter here.”
Dante studied it.
“What does he want from Mateo?”
“The cassette.”
“He’ll get a copy.”
Mateo looked at Dante.
“Copy?”
“The original goes somewhere Vittorio can’t reach.”
Dante took out his phone.
He called Assistant U.S. Attorney Rebecca Shaw.
A woman who had spent six years trying to put him in prison.
She answered after two rings.
“Moretti.”
“Still want my father’s empire?”
Silence.
“What are you offering?”
“Everything.”
Nico stared at him.
Dante continued.
“Financial records. names. properties. accounts. And a recording of multiple murders.”
“What do you want?”
“One child brought home alive.”
Rebecca’s voice changed.
“Whose child?”
“Employee’s daughter.”
“And after?”
Dante looked around the ruined church.
At Nico.
Mateo.
Elena.
Isabella.
At the wreckage created by dead men who had spent decades convincing themselves that family justified anything.
“Afterward, we talk about me.”
Elena looked at him.
Rebecca said:
“You understand what you’re offering?”
“Yes.”
“You could go to prison.”
“I know.”
A pause.
“Send me the recording.”
Dante did.
The old empire had begun dying before he ended the call.
They reached Blackwater House at 2:40 a.m.
Federal teams remained two miles out.
Dante insisted on entering first.
Elena insisted on coming.
“No.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“That’s why you stay.”
“No.”
Dante stared at her.
Elena did not blink.
Finally:
“You stay behind me.”
“I’m not one of your soldiers.”
“Tonight you are.”
They entered through the tunnel.
At the far end, Sophia’s voice floated through the darkness.
She was singing to herself.
Elena’s eyes filled.
They reached a basement room.
Sophia sat on a mattress.
Unhurt.
Eating crackers.
A guard stood outside.
Nico handled him silently.
Elena rushed inside.
“Sophia.”
“Mommy!”
The reunion lasted three seconds.
Then the lights came on.
Vittorio stood at the top of the stairs.
Twenty armed men surrounded them.
Sophia buried her face against Elena.
Vittorio smiled.
“Dante.”
Dante raised his eyes.
“Uncle.”
“Give me the recording.”
“No.”
Vittorio sighed.
“You always were Salvatore’s son.”
Dante looked at Sophia.
Then at the armed men.
“No.”
He slowly placed his gun on the floor.
“That’s exactly what I’m trying not to be.”
Vittorio’s smile vanished.
Then Isabella stepped from behind Dante.
She raised her pistol.
And pointed it directly at his chest.
May you like
“Sorry,” she whispered.
A gunshot thundered through Blackwater House.
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