Chapter 6 - THE PILOT'S CONFESSION
The basement of Dante’s compound didn’t look like a dungeon. It looked like an immaculate, stainless-steel medical facility. The stark lighting only made it more terrifying.
I insisted on coming down. Dante tried to stop me, but when I showed him the gold bracelet he had given me, demanding to face the man who threatened my daughter, he finally relented, looking at me with a mixture of shock and deep respect.
The pilot was strapped to a steel chair in the center of the room. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye, trembling violently as Silas stood behind him.
Dante walked in, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. The tattoos snaking up his forearms were fully visible now.
“Who paid you?” Dante asked. No yelling. Just the calm, dead tone of an executioner.
“I didn’t want to do it, Mr. Salvatore!” the pilot sobbed. “I swear to God! The Moretti family threatened my wife. They told me if I didn’t slip the drawing to the gate guard, they’d kill her!”
“The Morettis don’t care about Clare’s daughter,” Dante said, stepping closer. “Richard Jensen cares. Richard ordered this.”
The pilot frantically shook his head. “No! You don’t understand! Richard isn’t working for the Morettis. He’s using them!”
Dante stopped. “Explain.”
“Richard stole from them,” the pilot choked out. “He’s their accountant, right? He’s been skimming millions from their offshore accounts for years. The Moretti bosses found out last week. They were going to gut him.”
I stepped forward, my mind racing. “If he stole from the mob, why isn’t he dead?”
The pilot looked at me, blood dripping into his eye.
“Because he promised them something better than the stolen money,” the pilot whispered. “He promised them land.”
“What land?” Dante demanded.
The pilot swallowed hard. “Your father’s land, Clare.”
I froze.
My father had died when I was twenty. He was a humble geologist who spent his life studying mineral deposits in West Texas. He left me nothing but a dusty old deed to a barren patch of desert that was completely worthless.
“That land is dirt,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s worth nothing.”
“Not anymore,” the pilot rasped. “Three months ago, a massive lithium deposit was discovered underneath that exact tract of land. It’s worth hundreds of millions. The Moretti family wants it to launder their dirty money through clean tech.”
The pieces violently slammed together in my head.
Richard didn’t care about me. He didn’t care about Maya. He didn’t want me back because he loved controlling me.
He wanted me back because my name was on the deed.
“My God,” I whispered, stumbling back into Dante’s chest. His hands instinctively caught my waist, holding me steady. “He framed me for kidnapping so the police would arrest me. Once I’m in custody, he’ll use his legal guardianship over Maya to force me to sign the deed over to him in exchange for seeing her again.”
Dante’s grip on my waist tightened. “He’s using the state to do his dirty work.”
“He’s cornered,” the pilot cried. “If Richard doesn’t get that deed by Friday, the Morettis will kill him!”
Dante stared at the pilot. Then he looked at Silas.
“Knock him out and lock him up,” Dante ordered.
We walked back upstairs in silence. The Los Angeles sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky in bruised shades of purple and orange.
When we reached the main floor, Dante turned to me.
“He’s desperate,” Dante said. “Desperate men make mistakes. We have the advantage now. We know what he wants.”
“Dante, I have to give it to him,” I said frantically, tears spilling over. “If the police find me, I’ll lose Maya. I’ll sign the land over. I don’t care about the money. I just want my daughter safe.”
“If you sign it over, Richard has no reason to keep you alive,” Dante said softly, stepping into my space. He reached up, his thumbs gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. “He will take the money, hand it to the Morettis, and bury you in the desert.”
I leaned into his touch, utterly exhausted. “Then what do I do?”
“We fight,” Dante whispered, his eyes dropping to my lips again. The tension between us was electric, thick with the shared trauma of the night.
Before he could bridge the gap, Maria, the housekeeper, came rushing down the hallway.
“Mr. Salvatore!” she called out, looking panicked. “It’s Leo. He’s burning up with a fever, and he won’t stop screaming.”
Dante dropped his hands from my face, terror instantly replacing the warmth in his eyes.
We ran to the nursery. Leo was thrashing in his crib, his face bright red, wailing in agony.
Dante reached into the crib, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t pick his son up. The invincible mafia boss was completely paralyzed by the fear of losing his child.
“I’m cursing him,” Dante choked out, backing away. “Silas was right. I have to send him to Geneva today. I can’t protect him.”
“Stop it,” I commanded, stepping past Dante.
I picked Leo up. He was incredibly hot to the touch. I checked his neck, his ears, his throat.
Then, I looked at his gums.
I let out a massive sigh of relief.
“He’s not dying, Dante,” I said softly, bouncing the crying baby on my hip. “He’s teething. His first bottom tooth is cutting through the gum. It causes a low-grade fever and a lot of pain.”
Dante stared at me, his chest heaving as the panic slowly subsided.
“Teething?” he asked, sounding incredibly vulnerable.
“Yes,” I smiled, walking over to him. I gently placed his son into his arms. “He doesn’t need Switzerland, Dante. He needs his dad. And some infant Tylenol.”
Dante held Leo tightly against his chest. Leo rooted against his father’s shirt, the crying slowing to a pathetic whimper. Dante closed his eyes, burying his face in his son’s dark hair.
“You’re a good father,” I whispered.
Dante looked up at me.
“I don’t want to send him away,” Dante confessed, his voice breaking. “But I don’t know how to do this alone.”
“You aren’t alone,” I said, touching his arm.
The moment was beautifully, devastatingly tender.
May you like
Then, Silas burst into the nursery.
“Boss,” Silas said, out of breath. “The gate guard just called. A black SUV just rammed the front barricade. Richard is here.”
