Chapter 2 - They Kidnapped My Mother and Ordered Me to Betray Dante Moretti—But the Ledger They Wanted Contained a Secret That Could Destroy His Entire EmpireAt 2:13 the next morning, Emily Hart discovered something unexpected about fear.
Eventually, your body gets tired of producing it.
She sat at the long kitchen table in Dante's villa wearing borrowed sweatpants and a white T-shirt while six people worked around her.
Phones.
Laptops.
Maps.
Security feeds.
Everyone moved quickly.
Everyone except Dante.
He stood near the window, perfectly still.
“Say it again,” Emily said.
He turned.
“What?”
“The plan.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because there isn't one yet.”
“That is not comforting.”
“Comfort isn't useful.”
She glared.
“You're incredibly irritating.”
“So I've been told.”
“By everyone?”
“Mostly you.”
Under different circumstances, she might have smiled.
Instead, she looked at the photograph of her mother.
“Can they trace the message?”
“We're trying.”
“Trying?”
“They routed it through multiple systems.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning Salvi planned this.”
Emily pressed both hands against her face.
“I should go.”
“No.”
“They want me.”
“They want the ledger.”
“I don't have it.”
“They believe you do.”
“Then I'll tell them.”
Dante's eyes hardened.
“And when they don't believe you?”
She had no answer.
A woman entered the kitchen.
Early forties.
Dark hair.
Gray suit.
Dante introduced her.
“Lucia Ferraro. Attorney.”
Lucia looked at Emily.
“Also the person who spends most of her life preventing Dante from doing stupid things.”
Dante ignored that.
Lucia placed a laptop on the table.
“We found something.”
Emily moved closer.
“What?”
“Your mother left Cleveland yesterday afternoon.”
“What?”
“Her phone records show she drove to a storage facility.”
Emily frowned.
“Storage?”
Lucia showed surveillance footage.
Rebecca Hart entered a storage building carrying a blue metal box.
Emily recognized it instantly.
“The box under the floorboard.”
Dante leaned forward.
“She moved it.”
“Why?”
“Because you called her.”
Emily felt sick.
“I led them to her.”
“No.”
Dante's voice sharpened.
“Salvi's people were already watching.”
“You don't know that.”
“We do.”
Lucia showed another photograph.
A dark SUV had followed Rebecca from her house.
Emily looked away.
Dante said quietly:
“This isn't your fault.”
She hated that sentence.
Maybe because she needed to hear it.
Lucia continued.
“The storage unit is registered under Daniel Hart's name.”
“My father?”
“Your adoptive father.”
Emily's expression hardened.
Dante corrected himself immediately.
“Your father.”
She looked at him.
“Thank you.”
Lucia handed Emily a document.
“Daniel rented the unit nineteen years ago.”
“But he died twenty-one years ago.”
“Yes.”
Emily stared.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“The account remained prepaid through a trust.”
“Whose trust?”
Lucia looked at Dante.
Then back at Emily.
“Matteo Moretti's.”
At dawn, they flew to the United States.
Not Emily.
Dante's people.
Lucia coordinated with American authorities and an attorney Rebecca had apparently retained years earlier.
By noon Greek time, investigators entered the Ohio storage unit.
The blue box was gone.
But something else remained.
A sealed envelope taped beneath a metal shelf.
Addressed to:
EMILY HART — IF REBECCA CANNOT GIVE THIS TO YOU HERSELF.
A scanned copy reached them an hour later.
Emily read the letter alone.
It was from Daniel Hart.
The man who had taught her to ride a bicycle.
The man who made pancakes shaped like dinosaurs.
The man who died when she was six.
Emily,
If you are reading this, then the past finally found your mother.
She stopped.
Started again.
Daniel wrote that he'd met Rebecca after she returned from Italy.
She was pregnant.
Terrified.
He knew the truth.
He married her anyway.
Not out of pity.
Out of love.
He raised Emily knowing another man had given her life.
Being your father was never something Matteo took from me. It was something he unknowingly gave me.
Emily covered her mouth.
She cried so hard she couldn't continue for several minutes.
Dante waited outside.
He never entered.
Eventually she finished.
Daniel knew about the ledger.
Rebecca had refused to destroy it because it contained evidence Matteo died trying to protect.
But she also refused to release it while Alessandro Moretti lived.
Too many innocent people could have been endangered.
Daniel had created a contingency.
The ledger itself wasn't stored in Ohio.
The blue box contained a key.
The key opened a safe-deposit box in Switzerland.
Emily walked into the kitchen.
Dante looked up.
She handed him the final page.
He read.
His face changed.
“What?”
Dante sat down.
“The bank.”
“What about it?”
“My family owns part of it.”
“Of course you do.”
“Not anymore.”
He looked at the page again.
“My father sold our interest twelve years ago.”
“So?”
“The buyer was Vittorio Salvi.”
Emily's stomach dropped.
“If Salvi owns the bank—”
“He may already know where the ledger is.”
“Then why kidnap my mother?”
“Because access requires more than a key.”
Lucia found the answer.
The safe-deposit arrangement required two biological signatures.
One from Matteo's descendant.
One from Alessandro's.
Emily stared at Dante.
“You and me.”
“Yes.”
Salvi needed both.
Or he needed a way to defeat the requirement.
Emily thought about the message.
Dante Moretti must not survive the exchange.
“They don't need you alive.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Lucia answered.
“Death certificate plus succession authority could substitute for Dante's signature.”
Emily looked at Dante.
“They want me alive and you dead.”
“Correct.”
“Stop saying that so calmly.”
“Would screaming improve it?”
She stood.
“You are impossible.”
Dante followed her outside.
Morning light washed the sea in silver.
Emily gripped the stone railing.
“I don't understand you.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because Salvi kidnapped your mother.”
“You were helping before that.”
Dante didn't answer.
Emily turned.
“Why did you come to Santorini?”
“To find you.”
“Why?”
“Because Matteo was my uncle.”
“You never knew him.”
“No.”
“Then why care?”
Dante looked toward the water.
“My father killed him.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I can't prove he personally did it.”
Dante's voice remained low.
“But he ordered it.”
“You knew?”
“I learned five years ago.”
“And you stayed?”
“I began dismantling everything he built.”
“Why not go to the police?”
“Because half the evidence implicated men who were already dead, and the other half would've gotten living people killed before charges were filed.”
“So you decided you were judge and jury?”
“Yes.”
No excuses.
Emily stared at him.
“You really are dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“Have you killed people?”
Dante looked at her.
“Yes.”
Her stomach tightened.
He didn't elaborate.
She was grateful.
“Then why should I believe you're different from your father?”
“You shouldn't believe it because I say it.”
He stepped closer.
“Watch what I choose when the choice costs me something.”
That stayed with her.
The next twenty-four hours moved quickly.
Lucia established contact with Salvi.
Emily would deliver the key.
Dante would accompany her despite the demand.
They would force Salvi to reveal Rebecca's location before any exchange.
Police involvement was complicated.
Rebecca was being held somewhere unknown.
Salvi had threatened to kill her at the first sign of authorities.
Emily hated every option.
Then she remembered something.
The blue box.
Her mother had carried it into storage.
If Salvi had taken Rebecca afterward, he probably had the box.
But Rebecca was meticulous.
She had spent thirty years preparing.
“She's left us something.”
Dante looked up.
“What?”
“My mother.”
Emily grabbed her phone.
“She knew she was being followed.”
“How?”
“She moved the box after I called.”
She opened the surveillance image.
Zoomed.
Rebecca was wearing a red scarf.
Emily stared.
“What?”
“She hates red.”
Dante frowned.
“So?”
“She never wears it.”
Emily enlarged the scarf.
Tiny white shapes covered the fabric.
Not flowers.
Letters.
Dante leaned closer.
“What does that say?”
Emily read:
CAPE.
Repeated.
Cape.
Cape.
Cape.
Then she remembered.
When she was little, Daniel used to take them to Cape Cod every summer.
But Rebecca had another phrase.
Whenever Emily asked where she'd been happiest before becoming a mother, Rebecca always said:
“Cape Sounion.”
Greece.
Temple of Poseidon.
Emily looked at Dante.
“She wasn't telling me where she was.”
“What?”
“She was telling me where she expected to be taken.”
Dante's expression sharpened.
Salvi owned property near Cape Sounion.
A villa purchased through a shell company.
They found it within thirty minutes.
Dante wanted Emily to remain behind.
She refused.
“No.”
“This isn't a debate.”
“Then enjoy losing it.”
“Emily.”
“That's my mother.”
“And Salvi wants you.”
“Exactly. Which means I'm useful.”
“You're not bait.”
“I decide what I am.”
Dante stared at her.
Something shifted in his face.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
No argument.
No command.
Her decision.
They drove toward Athens after sunset.
Emily wore a small tracking device beneath her watch.
Lucia remained with the support team.
Dante sat beside Emily in the rear seat.
Neither spoke for twenty minutes.
Then Emily said:
“If we survive this, I'm going back to Ohio.”
Dante looked at her.
“Okay.”
“You don't care?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You aren't going to tell me to stay?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you spent your entire life inside secrets other people chose for you.”
He looked out the window.
“I won't become another person choosing your future.”
Something inside her hurt unexpectedly.
She reached across the seat.
Took his hand.
Dante looked down.
Neither moved.
“This would have been less complicated before we discovered we're cousins,” Emily muttered.
Dante stared at her.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound shocked her.
“I wasn't flirting with you anymore.”
“Good.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Tease me one more time.”
Emily raised an eyebrow.
“And what happens?”
His expression softened.
“I'll remind you for the thousandth time that we're related.”
She laughed despite everything.
It was exactly what she needed.
They reached the Cape Sounion property at 11:18 p.m.
Salvi's men searched them.
Emily carried the brass key.
Dante carried nothing.
Vittorio Salvi waited inside.
Sixty.
Silver hair.
Elegant suit.
The kind of man who looked more like a banker than a criminal.
Rebecca sat across the room.
Alive.
Bruised.
But alive.
“Mom.”
Rebecca's eyes filled.
“Emily.”
Salvi raised one hand.
“Not yet.”
Dante stepped forward.
“You have what you wanted.”
Salvi smiled.
“Not everything.”
Emily held up the key.
“Release my mother.”
“After the box.”
“No.”
Salvi looked amused.
“You think you're negotiating?”
“Yes.”
“You're a waitress.”
“Actually, I have a degree in communications and six thousand dollars in student debt.”
Dante closed his eyes briefly.
Salvi frowned.
Emily continued.
“And right now, I'm the only person in this room whose biological signature can open what you want.”
Salvi's smile vanished.
“So yes.”
She looked directly at him.
“I'm negotiating.”
Rebecca almost smiled.
Salvi ordered a man to untie her.
Emily's pulse jumped.
Then Dante suddenly looked toward the window.
His expression changed.
“Down!”
Glass exploded.
Gunfire shattered the room.
Emily hit the floor.
Chaos.
Dante pulled her behind a stone column.
Salvi shouted.
His men returned fire.
Someone outside had attacked the villa.
Emily looked at Dante.
“Your people?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
Dante's face became grim.
“Someone who doesn't want Salvi getting the ledger either.”
Rebecca screamed from across the room.
Emily moved.
Dante caught her.
“My mother!”
“I'll get her.”
“No!”
But he was already moving.
He crossed the room through smoke and broken glass.
Reached Rebecca.
Dragged her behind cover.
Then a shot cracked.
Dante staggered.
Emily screamed.
He fell.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then Emily saw blood spreading across his shirt.
Salvi ran toward a rear exit.
Rebecca crawled to Dante.
Emily reached them.
“Dante.”
His eyes opened.
“I'm fine.”
“You've been shot!”
“That's generally less serious than it looks.”
“That's the stupidest thing you've ever said.”
“Unlikely.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Lucia had ignored Salvi's warning.
Good.
Police stormed the property minutes later.
The unknown attackers fled.
Salvi was captured near the cliffs.
Rebecca survived.
Dante was taken to a hospital.
The bullet had passed through his shoulder.
Painful.
Bloody.
Not fatal.
Emily sat beside his hospital bed at dawn.
He opened his eyes.
“You stayed.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You're terrible company.”
“You were unconscious.”
“So were you.”
He smiled faintly.
Then Rebecca entered.
She looked at Dante.
For thirty years, she had feared the Moretti name.
Now one of them had taken a bullet getting her across a room.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Dante nodded.
Then Rebecca looked at Emily.
“There is something else.”
Emily groaned.
“Mom, if you tell me I'm secretly related to the Greek royal family, I'm leaving.”
Rebecca almost laughed.
“No.”
She placed the blue metal box on the bed.
Police had recovered it from Salvi's car.
Inside was the brass key.
And a sealed letter from Matteo.
Emily stared at it.
“To me?”
“No.”
Rebecca looked at Dante.
“To both of you.”
They opened it together.
Matteo had known he might die.
The ledger was not simply evidence.
It contained ownership records showing that several legitimate Moretti businesses had been funded using assets illegally taken from families harmed by the old organization.
Matteo's final instruction was clear.
If the truth ever surfaced, the legitimate fortune had to be separated from the stolen money.
Restitution.
Dante read the final paragraph twice.
Then put the letter down.
Emily watched him.
“What are you going to do?”
He stared at the ceiling.
Years of wealth.
Hotels.
Shipping assets.
Real estate.
Everything potentially threatened.
Emily remembered his words.
Watch what I choose when the choice costs me something.
Dante looked at Lucia.
“Open the vault.”
Lucia stared.
“You understand what that could do?”
“Yes.”
“You could lose hundreds of millions.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca whispered:
“Dante.”
He looked at Emily.
“You wanted to know whether I'm different from my father.”
May you like
He handed Lucia the key.
“Let's find out.”
