Chapter 12 - THE CONTRACT
Dante pulled Emma to the ground.
Glass shattered.
Marcus returned fire.
Isabella screamed.
Lucian dragged her behind the stone wall.
The cemetery erupted into chaos.
“Stay down!”
Dante covered Emma with his body.
She could hear bullets striking the chapel.
“Dante!”
“I'm here.”
“You're bleeding.”
“It's nothing.”
Blood was running down his shoulder.
Emma grabbed him.
“You're shot.”
“Grazed.”
“That's not nothing.”
He looked at her.
“Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“Then we go.”
They ran.
Marcus opened the SUV door.
Emma climbed in.
Dante followed.
Lucian and Isabella entered another vehicle.
The convoy tore away from the cemetery.
For several minutes, no one spoke.
Emma stared at Dante's shoulder.
“You're bleeding.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you were scared.”
Emma laughed bitterly.
“I'm always scared.”
Dante looked at her.
“Not when you're angry.”
Despite everything, she almost smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my marriage could activate it.”
“I suspected.”
“And the contract?”
Dante looked away.
“What about it?”
“Was it designed to make me your legal spouse?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Daniel say the trust required a Moretti spouse?”
Dante was silent.
Emma's heart sank.
“Dante.”
He finally looked at her.
“I didn't know.”
She studied his face.
“You're telling the truth?”
“Yes.”
Emma believed him.
And that frightened her more.
Because if Dante hadn't known, then someone had arranged circumstances neither of them understood.
Someone had brought them together.
Someone had wanted Emma married to Dante.
The question was why.
They returned to Dante's private residence.
For the first time, Emma entered it without being treated as a guest.
The doors locked behind them.
Security surrounded the building.
Dante's doctor cleaned his wound.
“It isn't serious,” the doctor said.
Emma stood nearby.
“Thank God.”
Dante looked at her.
The doctor left.
Silence settled over the room.
Emma walked to the window.
“I'm tired.”
Dante didn't answer.
“I'm tired of being protected from the truth.”
“I know.”
“I don't want another contract.”
He looked at her.
“What do you want?”
Emma turned.
“I want a real marriage.”
Dante froze.
“You don't have to say yes.”
“I know.”
“You don't have to protect me.”
“I know.”
“You don't have to stay because of the Rossi trust.”
“I know.”
Emma stepped closer.
“I want you to stay because you want me.”
Dante stared at her.
“You understand what you're asking?”
“Yes.”
“This won't be simple.”
“I know.”
“My life isn't safe.”
“I know.”
“People will use you to get to me.”
“They already are.”
Dante's expression softened.
“You deserve someone better.”
Emma shook her head.
“David used to tell me that I wasn't enough.”
Dante's eyes darkened.
“You are.”
“I know.”
She took another step.
“And that's the difference.”
Dante looked at her for a long moment.
Then he reached for her.
Slowly.
Giving her every chance to step away.
She didn't.
His hand touched her cheek.
Emma closed her eyes.
For the first time, there was no contract between them.
No obligation.
No arrangement.
Only choice.
He kissed her.
It was gentle.
Brief.
But it changed everything.
When they separated, Emma whispered:
“Now tell me the truth.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Which truth?”
“All of it.”
He took her to his study.
A locked drawer opened.
Inside were documents.
Emma stared.
“What are these?”
“My father's records.”
She began reading.
There were transactions.
Security orders.
Payments.
Names.
Then she found Victor Hale.
And beneath his name—
Thomas Morrison.
Emma's hands trembled.
“He was paid.”
“Yes.”
“To kill my father.”
“Yes.”
“By Antonio?”
Dante nodded.
Emma closed her eyes.
Then she noticed something.
A second payment.
Made three days after Thomas disappeared.
The recipient wasn't Victor Hale.
It was another name.
RICHARD VALE.
Emma looked at Dante.
“Your family's lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he be paid?”
Dante took the document.
His expression changed.
“He wasn't.”
“What?”
“This payment was made from the Rossi trust.”
Emma stared.
“That means…”
“Someone inside the Rossi family paid him.”
“Who?”
Dante checked the signature.
His face went completely still.
Emma watched him.
“Who?”
He turned the document around.
The signature belonged to—
Isabella Rossi.
Emma felt the room tilt.
“No.”
Dante said nothing.
“She wouldn't.”
“I don't know.”
“She loved my father.”
“I know.”
“She protected me.”
“I know.”
Emma shook her head.
“There has to be another explanation.”
Then the study door opened.
Isabella stood there.
She looked exhausted.
But calm.
Emma turned toward her.
“Did you pay Richard Vale?”
Isabella stopped.
Silence.
“Mom?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Emma's heart broke.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas had to disappear.”
“You paid someone to kill him?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Isabella looked at Dante.
Then back at Emma.
“I paid Richard Vale to make sure Thomas could never reveal where he had hidden the ledger.”
Emma's voice dropped.
“Where is it?”
Isabella started crying.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then why did you pay him?”
“Because Richard threatened me.”
“With what?”
Isabella's face went white.
“With you.”
Emma stared.
“Me?”
“He said if I didn't cooperate, he would tell Lucian where you were.”
Emma's breath caught.
“And Thomas?”
Isabella whispered:
“Thomas knew.”
“Did he forgive you?”
Isabella shook her head.
“He never had the chance.”
Emma stepped backward.
“Why?”
“Because the night before he disappeared…”
Isabella looked at Dante.
“Your father came to see him.”
Dante froze.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
Isabella whispered:
“He wanted the ledger.”
“And Thomas refused.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Isabella looked at Emma.
“Your father gave him something else.”
“What?”
“The key.”
Emma remembered the key from the storage facility.
The same key she had assumed belonged to the blue room.
Her eyes widened.
“The key.”
Dante understood.
He took it from his pocket.
Isabella nodded.
“That key opens the place where Thomas hid the ledger.”
Emma stared.
“Where?”
Isabella looked toward the window.
“At the place where your life began.”
Emma frowned.
“My childhood home?”
“No.”
Isabella's voice trembled.
“The hospital.”
Emma froze.
“The hospital where I was born?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody searches for a dead man's secret inside the place where his daughter was born.”
Dante looked at Marcus through the doorway.
“Get the team ready.”
Emma grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
Dante turned.
“What?”
“If the ledger is there…”
“Yes.”
“Then whoever attacked the cemetery will be looking for it too.”
Dante nodded.
“We have to move before they do.”
Emma looked at her mother.
“Are you coming?”
Isabella hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
Emma took her hand.
For the first time in twenty-nine years, mother and daughter walked side by side.
Neither noticed the figure standing across the street.
A man lowered binoculars.
Then made a phone call.
“They found the hospital.”
A voice answered.
“Then kill them before they find the ledger.”
The man smiled.
“And the husband?”
The voice paused.
“Especially the husband.”
He ended the call.
Inside the car, Emma rested her head against the window.
Dante sat beside her.
Their hands found each other in the darkness.
Neither let go.
But neither saw the black SUV following them through Manhattan.
And inside that SUV sat David Whitmore.
Holding a photograph of Emma.
And smiling.
Because he had finally discovered the secret Dante Moretti had spent years hiding.
Dante wasn't the only man who had been watching Emma.
David had been watching her too.
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And this time, he knew exactly where she was going.
The hospital where Emma had been born.
