Chapter 7 - A Shadow from the Past
The temporary victory over Don Silvano brought a brief respite, but the drama was far from over.
Late that night, Emma couldn't sleep. The adrenaline from the dinner was still pumping through her veins. She wrapped herself in a silk robe and slipped out onto the balcony overlooking the lake. The cold Chicago air helped clear her mind.
"You shouldn't be out here without a coat."
Dante stepped onto the balcony from his adjoining suite. He had discarded his tuxedo jacket and tie, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his hair slightly disheveled. He looked less like a mafia boss and more like a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"I needed some air," Emma said, looking out at the black water. "Did I ruin everything tonight? I shouldn't have spoken to your grandfather like that."
Dante walked over, standing close enough that his warmth shielded her from the wind. "You did exactly what was needed. My grandfather despises weakness. If you had cried or begged for his approval, he would have had you removed from this house by morning. Tonight, you proved you are a Caruso."
Emma looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. "I'm not a Caruso, Dante. This is all make-believe, remember?"
Dante looked down at her, his gray eyes dark and intense. He reached out, his thumb gently tracing her lower lip. "Is it, Emma? Because when I hold your hand, it doesn't feel like a lie."
Before she could process his words, Dante’s phone buzzed aggressively in his pocket. The moment of intimacy shattered. Dante stepped back, pulling out the encrypted device.
As he listened to the voice on the other end, his face turned to stone. The air around him grew instantly colder.
"Where?" Dante snapped into the phone. "When?"
He hung up and looked at Emma, his expression grimmer than she had ever seen it.
"What is it?" she asked, a dread pooling in her stomach.
"Marcus," Dante said, his voice laced with venom. "The coward went to the Moretti family. He told them about our arrangement. He told them you are my weakness, and that if they kill you, the alliance with my grandfather falls apart and I will be broken."
May you like
Emma stumbled back. "Marcus... he's trying to get me killed?"
"He’s trying to save his own skin by selling yours," Dante said fiercely. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip tight and protective. "The Morettis have hitmen moving into the city. They know you are here. The estate is secure, but we are no longer playing a game of words, Emma. We are at war."
