Chapter 9 - The Interrogation in the Sky
Minna stood frozen near the private elevator foyer, still wearing her faded diner uniform, her sneakers smelling faintly of fryer grease and river mud, looking entirely out of place amid millions of dollars of luxury. Dante wore an expensive charcoal silk robe that likely cost more than the depreciated market value of her rusted Honda Civic. “Come closer,” he instructed, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated across the vast open room. Minna took two cautious steps forward, keeping her shoulders squared defensively. “Mr. Moretti, I don’t want any trouble,” she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her defiant posture. “I saw a car go off the bridge, I pulled you out, and I just want my locket back so I can go back to my life.”
Dante slowly pushed himself up from the leather chair, wincing visibly as his injured shoulder protested the movement, and limped toward her with a slow, deliberate gait. “Why?” he asked quietly, stopping just a few feet away so she could smell the expensive sandalwood soap and antiseptic lingering on his skin. “Why what?” Minna retorted, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “Why did you pull me out?” Dante narrowed his dark eyes, studying her face as if trying to solve a complex mathematical equation with missing variables. “You saw a luxury sedan tear through a concrete barrier at two in the morning. You saw a man who looked like me, bleeding and trapped inside a sinking tomb. Most people in this city would whip out their phones to record a video for social media, or they would turn around and walk away to avoid getting involved in police business.” He stepped closer, towering over her. “Instead, you jumped fifteen feet into freezing, contaminated water. Who sent you?” Minna stared at him, genuinely stunned by the absurd accusation. “Was it Silvio?” Dante’s voice dropped an octave, dripping with sudden, ice-cold venom. “Did he need me alive just long enough so he could finish the job himself with his own hands?”
