Chapter 4

I didn't return to the hotel. Instead, I followed them.

I took a taxi straight to the marina, knowing exactly where Dante went when the walls closed in. The private pier where the Vitiello yachts were docked.

Above the city, the sky erupted in a finale of fireworks. Bright red letters sizzled against the dark canvas: ELENA.

Dante had ordered them weeks ago to celebrate my return. Now, they hung in the smoke-filled air like a cruel joke.

I moved through the shadows of the shipping containers, the air heavy with the scent of salt and diesel fuel.

I saw Dante's car parked near the edge of the pier, its headlights cutting through the fog.

Sofia stood perilously close to the edge of the dock, gazing down at the black water.

Dante stood five feet away, his hands outstretched.

"Don't do it, Sofia!" he yelled.

"I can't live without you, Dante!" she screamed back. Her voice was theatrical, pitched perfectly to carry over the wind. "If you choose her, I will jump! I swear it!"

It was a performance, and a poor one. I knew Sofia. She loved herself too much to die. She was terrified of broken nails, let alone freezing water.

But Dante... Dante was a man who ruled by fear, and tonight, fear made him blind.

"Please, baby, come down," Dante begged, his voice cracking. "I'm not choosing her. I'm just... managing her. She is the past. You are the future."

The air left my lungs.

I stood frozen behind a stack of crates, my nails digging into the rusted metal.

She is the past.

"Prove it," Sofia sobbed.

Dante strode forward and grabbed her face.

"I love you," he said. "I only brought her back because we need the encryption keys. Once I have the ledger codes... she will be gone again."

He pulled her into a kiss.

It wasn't gentle. It was hungry. It was desperate. He lifted her up, pressing her against the hood of the car, her legs wrapping around his waist.

I watched my husband, the man I had worshipped, devour the woman who had tried to kill me.

Overhead, the fireworks popped. Bang. Bang. Bang.

They sounded like gunshots.

I looked down at my hands. They were trembling-not from fear anymore, but from clarity.

The Dante I loved had died five years ago. This man was a stranger. A weak king wearing a crown he didn't deserve.

I didn't confront them. I didn't scream.

I turned around and walked back into the darkness.

The ocean churned below the pier, black and hungry. I had feared drowning ever since the accident; the sound of the water usually paralyzed me.

But tonight, the sound of the waves was soothing.

It sounded like it was washing the slate clean.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the number Luca Salvatore had given me.

"I'm ready," I said.

"Good," the Wolf answered. "Meet me at the safe house. Bring the boy if you can. If not... leave him."

I hung up.

I had one last stop to make.