Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Garden
Elena stared at the thick white envelope sitting on the dark mahogany desk. Fifty thousand dollars. It was more money than she had seen in her entire life. It meant a new apartment, clothes for Sophie, debt paid off, a fresh start anywhere in the country.
"Why?" Elena asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked back at Isabella. "If Dante wants us here for protection, why are you paying me to run?"
Isabella’s smile thinned, becoming dangerous. "Because Dante is reckless when he gets emotional. He thinks he can fight Julian Donati over a dead electrician's secret. But I have spent three years building an alliance between the Moretti family and the Donati syndicate. I won't let a servant and a dirty little child ruin my wedding and my empire."
A dirty little child.
The words stung like a whip. Elena’s posture straightened, all hesitation vanishing from her chest. The timid server who spent her life apologizing to rude hotel managers disappeared, replaced by a mother fiercely protecting her child.
"Get out," Elena said, her voice steady and quiet.
Isabella blinked, surprised. "What did you say?"
"I said, get out of my room," Elena walked to the open door and held it wider. "I don't know anything about your mob empires or your alliances. But Dante Moretti protected my daughter tonight when no one else would. I'm not taking your dirty money, and I'm not running into the blizzard."
Isabella’s face twisted into an expression of pure malice. She walked toward the door, stopping inches from Elena.
"You made a terrible mistake, Elena," Isabella whispered, her breath smelling of expensive wine. "You think Dante will choose you? You're a ghost from his past. By tomorrow morning, you'll be buried in the snow."
Isabella turned on her heel and swept down the hallway, her high heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor.
Elena closed the door and locked it. Her heart was beating violently against her ribs. She walked over to the desk, picked up the white envelope, and slipped it into her apron pocket. She had no intention of using the money, but she needed proof of what Isabella was trying to do.
Downstairs in the dimly lit study, Dante was standing behind his mahogany desk, staring at a bank of security monitors. Micro-drives were plugged into a laptop, lines of encrypted financial code scrolling rapidly down the screen.
The door opened, and Marco walked in, holding a heavy tactical glass of bourbon.
"Boss," Marco said, setting the glass down. "The encrypted files on David Carter’s drive... they're opening up. It's bad."
"How bad?" Dante asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
"It wasn't just Victor Hail stealing from the Belrose," Marco said quietly. "Hail was routing money directly into offshore accounts owned by the Donati family. But there’s a second name on the offshore signatures. A local signature."
Dante froze. He looked up slowly. "Who?"
"Isabella Vance."
Dante’s jaw tightened. He didn't speak for several seconds. The silence in the study grew suffocating.
"She’s been working with Julian Donati for three years," Marco continued, his voice heavy with regret. "She was the one who tipped off Donati about David Carter three years ago. She's the reason your father’s contact was killed."
Before Dante could process the revelation, a sudden alarm blared through the estate. Red warning lights flashed along the walls of the study.
The computer screens monitoring the perimeter cameras went static one by one.
Marco immediately drew his sidearm. "Perimeter breached! East side gate!"
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Dante picked up his heavy Colt .45 from the desk drawer, pulling back the slide with a crisp clack.
"They didn't break through the gate, Marco," Dante said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he remembered Isabella walking up the stairs toward the guest rooms earlier. "Someone unlocked it from the inside."
