THE MAFIA KING FELT HER TOUCH AFTER SEVEN YEARS—BUT HIS JEALOUS FIANCÉE KNEW WHY HE COULDN'T WALK

Lena had expected Celeste Bellini to be cruel. She had not expected her to be the keeper of a secret that could ruin her own family.

“Why would you give Celeste the ledger?” Dante asked.

Isabella looked at the scar on her wrist. “She was sixteen. She came to the safe house with her mother and told me she wanted to stop her father. She cried. She said she had seen men disappear.”

“And you believed her?”

“I wanted to believe that not every Bellini was like Victor.”

Dante looked away. Lena knew he was remembering years of dinners, public appearances, and promises to a woman who had threatened her job and tried to silence his questions.

Isabella continued. “Celeste copied the ledger before giving it to her father. She kept one page. That page was enough to make Victor afraid of her.”

“Then why stay engaged to me?” Dante asked.

“Because you were useful to both of them. Victor needed your shipping routes. Celeste needed your name to protect herself.”

Dante's mouth tightened. “And the injections?”

“I don't know what she knew about those. But Soren worked for Victor long before he became your doctor.”

On the drive back, Lena sat beside Dante in the rear of the adapted vehicle. He watched the road without speaking. His mother was alive, but their reunion had delivered more grief than either of them knew how to hold.

“You can be angry at her,” Lena said.

“She's spent years in hiding.”

“And you spent years believing she abandoned you. Both things can be true.”

He glanced at her. “You always find the sentence I don't want to hear.”

“It's a gift.”

For a moment, he almost smiled.

At the Black Pelican, the lobby television was broadcasting a press conference. Celeste stood before microphones in an ivory suit, her hair flawless, her eyes wet with carefully controlled tears.

“Dante Vale is being manipulated by a hotel employee,” she announced. “My family is deeply concerned about his health and his vulnerability.”

Lena stopped walking.

Celeste continued. “We have reason to believe sensitive medical information has been stolen, and we are asking the public to respect his privacy during this difficult time.”

Onscreen, a reporter asked whether the engagement was over.

“I will always care about Dante,” Celeste said. “Even if he is unable to make sound decisions right now.”

Dante watched without expression. Then he asked Marco to turn off the television.

“She wants me declared incompetent,” he said.

Marco nodded. “Her family's lawyers filed an emergency petition this morning. They're arguing that your recent decisions put your businesses at risk.”

Lena felt sick. “Can they do that?”

“They can try,” Marco said. “They've already contacted the banks.”

Dante rolled toward the elevator. “Call my attorneys. Independent ones. No Bellini connections.”

That evening, Lena found an envelope slipped beneath her hotel-room door. Inside were photographs of her entering the hospital, sitting with Dante, and embracing her father. A note read: YOUR FATHER'S NEXT TREATMENT IS NOT GUARANTEED.

She took the envelope directly to Marco. He documented everything and arranged extra protection for Gabriel. Lena insisted that the threat be reported rather than hidden inside Dante's private security system.

“Agreed,” Dante said when she told him. “We do this in daylight.”

“You've spent your life working in shadows.”

“I know.” He looked at the envelope. “I'm beginning to see what those shadows cost other people.”

The following morning, Dante held his own press conference. Lena watched from behind the cameras as he faced the reporters in his wheelchair, with Dr. Nair and his legal counsel standing nearby.

“I am receiving independent medical care,” he said. “I have not authorized anyone to speak for me. I am capable of making my own decisions, including the decision to end my engagement to Celeste Bellini.”

The room erupted with questions.

He waited until the noise subsided. “There are allegations involving my former physician and the misuse of my medical records. I will cooperate with the proper authorities. I ask that you leave my employees and their families out of this.”

Lena watched his hands resting on the chair arms. He looked tired, but he did not look defeated.

When he returned upstairs, a message waited on his secure phone.

It contained a photograph of an old ledger page. At the bottom was a signature Dante recognized immediately.

His own.

Beneath it, Celeste had written: YOU WANT THE TRUTH? COME TO THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY WE NEVER CANCELED.

Lena read the message over his shoulder.

“It's a trap,” she said.

“Yes,” Dante replied.