Chapter 6 - The First Betrayal
Gunfire cracked through the darkness.
Dante pulled me behind the concrete wall before I understood what was happening.
“Stay down.”
Another shot hit metal.
Marco fired toward the entrance.
Someone screamed.
Emergency lights flashed red.
For several seconds, the storage facility became shadows and noise.
Then silence.
Dante moved first.
Two attackers were down near the entrance.
A third had disappeared.
Marco checked the corridor.
“Clear.”
Dante looked at the boxes.
They were still there.
That made no sense.
“If they wanted the evidence, why didn’t they take it?”
I asked.
Dante stared at the dead attackers.
“They weren’t here for the evidence.”
My stomach dropped.
“They were here for me.”
“Yes.”
Marco pulled a phone from one attacker’s pocket.
The latest message contained only four words.
CARTER GIRL FIRST.
Dante’s expression changed.
“We leave now.”
We carried the recorder and laptop.
The rest stayed guarded.
Back at the safe house, Dante made one phone call after another.
I sat by the window trying to understand how my life had become connected to murders that happened when I was a child.
Then Marco entered.
“We identified one shooter.”
Dante looked up.
“Who?”
“Anthony Bell.”
Dante cursed under his breath.
I had never seen him lose control before.
“Who is Anthony Bell?”
“Former soldier in my organization.”
“Former?”
Marco shook his head.
“Current.”
The room went silent.
My father’s warning echoed in my mind.
Someone inside the Moretti family.
Dante walked to the bar but did not pour anything.
“Only six people knew about the storage unit.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“You.”
“Me.”
“Sofia.”
“Three security men.”
“And Emily.”
Dante turned toward me.
“No one is accusing her.”
“I know.”
Marco sounded offended that Dante even needed to say it.
Then Sofia entered.
Her face was pale.
“You need to see this.”
She turned on the television.
Every local news station showed the same headline.
MISSING WOMAN BELIEVED ABDUCTED BY ORGANIZED CRIME FIGURE.
My photograph appeared beside Dante’s.
Then Nolan came on screen.
His eyes were red.
His voice shook perfectly.
“My girlfriend was vulnerable last night.”
He looked straight into the camera.
“Dante Moretti took advantage of her.”
I felt sick.
Nolan continued.
“If you can hear me, Emily, please come home.”
Then he lowered his voice.
“I forgive you.”
My hands curled into fists.
But Dante was staring at something else.
The reporter standing behind Nolan.
A man in a charcoal suit.
Silver tie.
The same stranger from the ballroom.
And Dante whispered his name.
May you like
“Victor Hale.”
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