Chapter 2 - The Man Coming Up the Elevator
Dante moved before either woman could say another word.
He stepped into the sunroom.
Elena turned.
Her face lost all color.
"Dante."
Evelyn stumbled backward.
For one long second, nobody spoke.
Dante's gaze remained fixed on Elena.
He had imagined this moment differently.
He had imagined handing her divorce papers and walking away before she could see what it cost him.
Instead, he had walked into the room knowing his wife loved him.
Knowing she had sacrificed three years to protect him.
Knowing armed men were coming upstairs.
The timing would have been almost funny if death weren't riding the elevator.
"How much did you hear?" Elena whispered.
"Enough."
Her eyes closed.
"Dante, I can explain."
"Later."
He pulled his phone from his pocket.
No signal.
Someone had activated a jammer.
Professional.
Dante crossed toward a cabinet beneath the television.
Evelyn watched him unlock it.
Inside were two pistols, spare magazines, a radio, and an emergency satellite phone.
Elena stared.
"You keep guns in the living room?"
Dante glanced at her.
"You married me."
Despite everything, a tiny, almost hysterical laugh escaped her.
It was the first genuine sound of amusement he had heard from her in years.
It lasted less than a second.
Then the private elevator chimed.
All three turned.
Dante raised his weapon.
The doors did not open.
Not yet.
He handed the satellite phone to Elena.
"Call this number."
He gave her a sequence from memory.
"Tell Marco the building is compromised. Tell him Protocol Seven."
"Dante—"
"Elena."
Something in his voice made her stop.
"Please."
That word surprised both of them.
She took the phone.
Evelyn moved toward the corridor.
Dante blocked her.
"Where are you going?"
"My daughter needs to leave."
"Nobody leaves."
"You don't trust me."
"No."
Evelyn's mouth tightened.
"Fair."
Elena completed the call.
"Marco says eight minutes."
"We may not have eight."
Dante crossed to the wall controls and killed the lights.
The penthouse fell into darkness.
Only the Chicago skyline illuminated the room.
Elena moved toward him.
"What can I do?"
"Stay behind me."
"I've been hiding behind you for three years without you knowing it. I'm finished hiding."
Dante looked at her.
Even now.
Even with death approaching.
She could still surprise him.
"Then stay low."
The elevator chimed again.
This time the doors opened.
Nobody stepped out.
Dante waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then gunfire exploded through the penthouse.
Glass shattered.
Elena screamed.
Dante pushed her behind the marble island as bullets tore into the wall.
He fired twice toward the elevator.
A man collapsed.
Another retreated.
Evelyn crouched behind a sofa.
"This wasn't supposed to happen!" she shouted.
Dante turned sharply.
"What does that mean?"
"No time!"
"There is exactly enough time."
More shots struck the island.
Dante pulled Elena closer.
She was trembling.
Yet she wasn't crying.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
He checked anyway.
Hands over shoulders.
Arms.
Waist.
For three years, Elena had avoided his touch.
Now she stood perfectly still as his hands moved over her searching for blood.
Their eyes met.
Something passed between them.
Three lost years.
Three years of wanting.
Three years of misunderstanding.
"Dante."
"Not now."
"If we don't survive—"
"We survive."
"But—"
"We survive first. We destroy our marriage with emotional honesty afterward."
She almost laughed again.
Then Dante heard footsteps.
Too many.
He fired toward the corridor.
A shadow disappeared.
"We need the safe room."
Elena nodded.
Evelyn suddenly said, "No."
Dante looked at her.
"The safe room is compromised."
His eyes narrowed.
"How would you know?"
Evelyn looked ashamed.
"Because Charles gave them the blueprints."
Elena stared at her mother.
"You knew?"
"I knew there was a plan."
"You knew Dad planned to kill him?"
"I thought they were forcing Dante out of Chicago."
"You believed that?"
"I wanted to."
Dante had heard enough.
"Who ordered the hit?"
Evelyn looked toward the elevator.
"Raymond Cole."
Dante wasn't surprised.
But Evelyn continued.
"And he isn't doing it for your father."
"Then why?"
"Because Charles tried to stop him."
Elena frowned.
"What?"
"Your father changed his mind."
Silence.
Evelyn swallowed.
"He changed his mind almost two years ago."
Elena stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because of you."
Another bullet hit the wall.
Dante returned fire.
"Family revelations later."
He pointed toward the kitchen.
"Service stairs."
They moved.
Dante led.
Elena followed.
Evelyn stayed behind them.
At the service entrance, Dante stopped.
The door was open.
He hadn't left it open.
He gestured for both women to stay back.
Then he moved closer.
A body lay in the stairwell.
One of Dante's guards.
Elena covered her mouth.
Dante crouched.
The man was breathing.
Barely.
"Tony."
The guard opened his eyes.
"Boss."
"How many?"
"Six... maybe eight."
"Marco?"
"Coming."
Dante removed the wounded man's radio.
Tony grabbed his wrist.
"They have someone inside."
"I know."
"No."
Tony coughed.
"Someone close."
Dante froze.
"How close?"
But Tony lost consciousness.
Dante checked his pulse.
Alive.
He looked at Elena.
"We can't use the stairs."
"What now?"
"Roof."
Evelyn shook her head.
"Raymond will expect that."
"He expects me to protect myself."
Dante looked at Elena.
"He won't expect me to protect her first."
They moved through the darkened penthouse toward Dante's office.
Behind a bookshelf was a private emergency passage leading to the mechanical level and roof access.
Only three people knew about it.
Dante.
Marco.
And his late father.
He opened the hidden door.
Elena stared.
"You have a secret passage?"
"Again, you married me."
This time she did smile.
Even in terror.
And Dante realized how much he had missed that smile.
He let Evelyn enter first.
Then Elena.
Before Elena disappeared into the passage, she turned.
"Dante."
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
His expression softened.
"So am I."
"For making you believe I hated you."
"We're not doing this now."
"I need you to know."
He stepped closer.
Rain flashed silver beyond the windows.
"I know."
Her lips trembled.
"Do you believe me?"
That question nearly broke him.
"Every word."
Elena's eyes filled again.
Then an explosion shook the penthouse.
Dante pushed her into the passage.
"Move!"
They climbed.
Behind them, footsteps entered the office.
Dante closed the hidden door.
Darkness surrounded them.
They climbed narrow metal stairs.
One floor.
Two.
Evelyn suddenly stopped.
"What?"
Dante whispered.
She was staring at her phone.
Somehow it had regained signal.
A message glowed on the screen.
Evelyn looked terrified.
"What's wrong?" Elena asked.
Her mother slowly turned the phone around.
The message contained only six words.
BRING ELENA TO THE ROOF. ALONE.
Below it was a photograph.
Elena gasped.
Dante's face became deadly still.
The photograph showed Charles Whitaker—Elena's father—tied to a chair.
Blood covered his shirt.
And standing behind him was someone Dante knew.
Someone who had eaten at his table.
Someone who had guarded Elena.
Someone who knew every security system in the building.
May you like
Dante whispered the name.
"Marco."
