Chapter 6 - The Day Valentina Returned
Valentina reentered our lives when Gabriel was eight months old.
Not because I contacted her.
Because her father died.
Matteo Russo suffered a heart attack during dinner at his Philadelphia home.
By morning, the news reached every allied family.
Whatever had happened between us, Russo had been an ally for twenty years.
I attended the funeral.
Alone.
Before leaving, I told Isabella.
Not because she required permission.
Because transparency was now ordinary.
"Valentina will be there," she said.
"Yes."
"Do you want to see her?"
"No."
"That's not what I asked."
I looked at her.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
I almost gave the easy answer.
Because I love you.
True.
But incomplete.
"Because the version of myself I was with Valentina disgusts me."
Isabella's expression changed.
"That's harsh."
"Toward her?"
"Toward yourself."
I shrugged.
"I deserve it."
She became quiet.
"Maybe."
Then she surprised me.
"But if you hate yourself forever, you'll eventually need someone else to escape from that too."
I stared.
Isabella looked uncomfortable.
"I'm not absolving you."
"I know."
"I'm saying shame isn't character growth."
Therapy had apparently infected both of us.
"I'll discuss it with Adler."
"Good."
The funeral was enormous.
Politicians.
Businessmen.
Family heads.
Valentina stood beside the coffin wearing black.
When our eyes met, she looked away.
After the burial, she approached.
"Can we talk?"
Every instinct screamed danger.
Not physical.
Emotional.
Secrecy.
I glanced toward Luca.
He was nearby.
"Here."
Valentina frowned.
"Privately."
"No."
Her face tightened.
"You're afraid of being alone with me?"
"No."
"Then?"
"I don't create private spaces with you anymore."
The sentence hurt her.
I saw it.
But boundaries that never cause discomfort are often not boundaries.
"What do you want?"
She looked toward her father's grave.
"He knew."
"Knew what?"
"About us."
I froze.
"For how long?"
"Almost from the beginning."
That surprised me.
"He encouraged it."
My eyes narrowed.
"What?"
Valentina laughed bitterly.
"My father thought if you left Isabella and married me, the Russo and Moretti organizations would eventually merge."
Anger moved through me.
"Did you know that was his plan?"
"Not at first."
"And later?"
"Yes."
I stared.
She lifted a hand.
"Before you decide I'm some mastermind, I loved you in my own pathetic way."
"I don't think you're pathetic."
"You should."
"No."
I was done turning other people's mistakes into permission for cruelty.
She looked surprised.
"I knew my father liked the affair. I didn't care why because I wanted you."
Honesty.
Ugly.
Familiar.
"Did you ever send anything to Isabella?"
"No."
"Contact her?"
"No."
"Threaten her?"
Valentina's face hardened.
"Never."
I believed her.
"Then why tell me?"
"Because there's something else."
She reached into her bag.
Luca moved automatically.
I lifted a hand.
Valentina removed a folder.
"These were in my father's office."
Inside were financial records.
Payments to two Moretti captains.
My captains.
I scanned the names.
Frank Rizzo.
Samuel DeMarco.
Both high-ranking.
"What is this?"
"My father had been paying them for information."
"About?"
"You."
My jaw tightened.
"Routes. Meetings. Internal disputes."
Luca stepped closer.
"How long?"
"Three years."
Valentina looked at me.
"And there are notes about Isabella."
Everything in me went cold.
"What notes?"
"Her schedule."
I stared.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"Dante, I don't know."
Her voice rose.
"Maybe leverage. Maybe my father wanted information if the alliance collapsed."
I looked through pages.
Dates.
Locations.
Charity events.
Hospitals.
Foundation meetings.
Then one entry from the month Isabella disappeared.
Possible relocation preparation.
My chest tightened.
Russo had known Isabella was planning something.
Maybe not where.
But enough.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
Valentina gave me a sad look.
"Because my father wanted your marriage to fail."
I closed my eyes.
The affair remained mine.
But people had noticed the crack and pushed.
That did not reduce guilt.
It increased my understanding of how dangerous arrogance made a man.
When I returned to New Hampshire, I told Isabella everything.
No edited version.
No delay.
She read the records.
"Do you think they knew where I was?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
Correct answer.
Her face changed.
Gabriel played on the rug between us.
I sat opposite her.
"I want security increased."
She immediately stiffened.
"How much?"
"Two people nearby."
"No."
"Isabella."
"No armed men standing outside my house."
"Then plainclothes."
"No."
I felt frustration rise.
Then recognized it.
Control.
I exhaled.
"What would make you comfortable?"
She looked surprised.
We negotiated.
One discreet surveillance team two blocks away.
Cameras installed.
Emergency panic system.
No visible guards.
No tracking on her personal phone except when traveling with Gabriel.
Agreement.
Two days later, Frank Rizzo disappeared.
Not by my order.
He ran.
That told me enough.
Samuel DeMarco remained.
I called him into my office.
Old Dante would have put a gun on the table.
New Dante put bank records.
"Explain."
His face went white.
Within twenty minutes, he confessed.
Russo paid for information.
No assassination plan.
Mostly business intelligence.
Then Isabella's name came up.
"Why?"
"Mr. Russo wanted to know whether she was leaving you."
"How did he know there was a problem?"
DeMarco swallowed.
"People talked."
"What people?"
Silence.
I leaned forward.
"Who knew about Valentina?"
He looked down.
"More people than you think."
The humiliation hit hard.
I had believed my affair was secret.
My own men knew.
Staff knew.
Drivers knew.
Perhaps everyone except the woman I lied to directly.
Or perhaps she knew most of all.
I fired DeMarco.
No violence.
No disappearance.
He lost rank, access, and employment.
Luca objected.
"Twenty years ago, betrayal meant death."
"I know."
"People may see weakness."
"Let them."
"That can become dangerous."
"Then adapt."
The organization began changing more rapidly.
Informal criminal operations closed.
Legitimate businesses became separate.
Men who wanted the old world left.
Some hated me.
I didn't care.
I was forty-three.
I had a son.
A wife who might one day become my wife again in more than law.
I no longer wanted an empire that required every mistake to become blood.
Six weeks later, something unexpected happened.
Valentina came to New Hampshire.
She did not know Isabella's address.
She contacted the foundation office.
Asked whether Isabella would meet her.
When Isabella told me, my first response was immediate.
"No."
She raised an eyebrow.
I stopped.
"Sorry."
"That's growth."
"I don't like it."
"I know."
"Why would you meet her?"
"Because she asked."
"That isn't a reason."
"For me it is."
I paced.
"What does she want?"
"I don't know."
"Then don't go."
"Dante."
"Right."
I sat.
"What do you want?"
"To hear her."
My jaw tightened.
"Do you want me there?"
"No."
Pain.
Then I nodded.
"Okay."
They met in a public café.
I stayed home with Gabriel.
That alone would have been unimaginable a year earlier.
For two hours, I walked around with my son while my wife sat with my former mistress.
When Isabella returned, I almost attacked her with questions.
I didn't.
She took off her coat.
"You're not asking?"
"I'm learning."
She smiled.
"She apologized."
I looked at her.
"Did you accept?"
"No."
Interesting.
"She said she knew about me."
Isabella nodded.
"Obviously."
"She knew more than I thought."
"What did she say?"
"That you talked about me."
I became uncomfortable.
"Badly?"
"Sometimes."
Shame.
"She said you complained I was always calm."
I closed my eyes.
That sounded like me.
"That you didn't think I needed you anymore."
I sat.
That was true too.
"She also said you kept a photograph of us in the penthouse."
I looked up.
Isabella's eyes were wet.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Dante."
I thought.
"Because even while betraying you, I didn't want a life where you didn't exist."
"That's incredibly selfish."
"Yes."
She laughed sadly.
"She told me she hated that photograph."
"I didn't know."
"She said every time she saw it, she knew she was waiting for you to become someone you never intended to be."
I looked away.
Valentina had also lived inside my dishonesty.
Different consequences.
Still true.
"Isabella."
"What?"
"I'm sorry for making another woman part of our marriage."
She became still.
It was the first time I had framed it that way.
Not simply cheating.
I had made Isabella share emotional space she had never agreed to share.
Tears appeared.
"Thank you."
That night, after Gabriel fell asleep, Isabella kissed me.
For the first time since she disappeared.
Not on the cheek.
Not accidentally.
Her lips touched mine.
Soft.
Brief.
I froze.
She stepped back.
"I don't know what that means."
I could barely speak.
"Okay."
"Don't make plans."
"Okay."
"Don't call Luca."
I laughed.
"I wasn't going to call Luca."
"You tell him everything."
"Unfortunately."
She smiled.
Then went upstairs.
I remained in the living room for twenty minutes.
May you like
The most feared man on the East Coast.
Completely destroyed by one three-second kiss.
