Chapter 1 - The Confession in the Rain
The rain battered against Dante Moretti’s ruined tuxedo, mixing with the blood on his forehead.
His grip on my wrist was like iron.
He didn't look like a man who had just cheated death; he looked like a predator calculating his next move.
“I asked you a question,” Dante repeated, his voice barely rising above the storm, yet carrying an absolute command.
“I… I work at Bellini’s,” I stammered, my whole body shivering.
“Your wife. She was there tonight.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed, the gray irises flashing under the headlights of the surrounding SUVs.
“Vanessa was at a charity gala downtown.”
“No,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“She was in a private booth. With a man.”
The armed guards surrounding us stood perfectly still, their weapons lowered but not holstered.
A tall man with a scar over his left eyebrow stepped forward, holding an umbrella over Dante.
“Boss, we need to get you to a hospital. This girl could be part of the hit.”
“She just pulled me out of a falling car, Marcus,” Dante said coldly, never breaking eye contact with me.
“Tell me exactly what you heard, waitress.”
“Cara. My name is Cara Fields.”
I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to speak clearly.
“I was clearing the table behind them. The man said he cut your brakes. He said they would fail on the mountain road.”
Dante didn’t flinch.
“And Vanessa?”
“She laughed. She said by midnight, she’d be a grieving widow.”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the road, broken only by the relentless rain.
Marcus cursed under his breath.
“Sir, if this is true, your home isn't safe. The penthouse isn't safe.”
Dante finally released my wrist and slowly stood up, refusing Marcus’s help.
He looked down at the dark ravine where his car had vanished.
“Put her in the second SUV,” Dante ordered, turning his back to me.
“Wait, what?” I panicked, stepping backward. “I told you what I know! I need to go home!”
May you like
Marcus grabbed my arm, not gently, but not hurting me either.
“If whoever cut those brakes saw you run after Mr. Moretti, you won't have a home by morning. You're coming with us.”
