What Marcus Bought With Her Reputation

Chapter 03 - What Marcus Bought With Her Reputation

Elena remembered her father’s funeral mostly in colors.

Her mother’s blue dress.

The white lilies.

The red polish on the coffin where someone had tried to repair a scratch.

Miguel Reyes had collapsed at work, according to the company. A heart attack at forty-nine. By the time Elena and her mother reached the hospital, he was gone.

There had been no autopsy.

The doctor said his medical history explained everything.

Her mother, Sofia, had agreed.

Now Elena stood in Dante’s private dining room with Marcus still breathing on the phone.

“You have ten seconds before I hang up.”

“Elena, please.”

“Nine.”

“Your father found something in Salvatore Logistics.”

“Dante already told me.”

Silence.

Marcus’s voice changed.

“You’re with him.”

“Yes.”

“You need to get away from him.”

Dante raised one eyebrow.

Elena ignored him.

“Why?”

“Because his family killed your father.”

The room went cold.

Elena looked at Dante.

He did not move.

“Which family member?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then don’t say ‘his family’ like that is evidence.”

“Elena—”

“Who told you my father was murdered?”

“My father.”

Arthur Vale.

Chairman of the Vale Foundation.

A man who had hugged Elena after Miguel’s funeral and paid for flowers.

“Why would your father know?”

Marcus hesitated.

That was all she needed.

“Because he was there.”

“Elena—”

She ended the call.

Dante remained very still.

“Your father,” she said. “What did my father warn you about?”

“My uncle planned to kill me.”

“And after he warned you?”

“I left Chicago for three weeks.”

“What happened to Miguel?”

“I was told he died ten days later.”

“By whom?”

“My father.”

“What was your father’s name?”

“Antonio Salvatore.”

Elena had heard it.

Everybody had.

Antonio Salvatore died in prison eight years earlier.

“What did he say?”

“That Miguel had a weak heart.”

She laughed without humor.

“Convenient.”

“Yes.”

“You never questioned it?”

Dante’s face tightened.

“I was twenty-eight and busy surviving.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No.”

The word sat between them.

He did not defend himself.

Elena suddenly understood something that made her angrier.

Dante had spent fourteen years believing her father saved him and had never investigated Miguel’s death.

“How grateful.”

His jaw moved.

“You are right.”

“Stop agreeing with me.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

“Know things.”

The anger broke on the last word.

She looked away.

Dante waited.

After a moment, he said, “We can find out.”

“We?”

“If you want.”

The correction mattered.

Elena rubbed at the pale mark the diamond ring had left around her finger after less than an hour.

“I need to see my mother.”

Dante stood.

“I’ll drive.”

“No.”

“Elena.”

“You had one good hour.”

He stopped.

Then, reluctantly, “My driver can take you.”

“I have a car.”

“Your ex-fiancé just told you your father was murdered by people connected to my family.”

“Yes.”

“And you intend to drive alone?”

“Yes.”

“That is reckless.”

“So is putting rings on strangers.”

His mouth twitched despite himself.

She hated that she noticed.

In the end, Elena drove.

A black SUV followed three cars behind.

She saw it immediately.

She called Dante.

“You’re following me.”

“My security is.”

“I said no.”

“You said you were driving alone.”

“That implied without surveillance.”

“I interpreted it differently.”

“Dante.”

A pause.

Then: “They’ll turn off at the next exit.”

She waited.

The SUV exited.

Elena looked at the empty road behind her and discovered, annoyingly, that she felt less safe.

Her mother lived in Oak Park in the same narrow brick house Elena had grown up in.

Sofia Reyes opened the door wearing gardening gloves.

She was sixty-three now, silver threaded through her dark hair, her face softer than Elena’s and much harder to fool.

“You were on television.”

“That was fast.”

“Mrs. Alvarez sent me a video before you left the ballroom.”

Of course she did.

Sofia looked at her daughter’s bare left hand.

“He gave you a ring.”

“He did.”

“You took it off.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

Elena almost smiled.

Then she said, “Mom, was Dad murdered?”

The smile vanished.

Sofia did not ask what Elena meant.

That was answer enough.

“Come inside.”

They sat at the kitchen table.

The same table where Miguel used to balance household accounts on Sunday mornings.

Sofia removed her gardening gloves carefully.

“Who told you?”

“Marcus.”

Her mother’s mouth tightened.

“That coward.”

“You knew he knew?”

“Yes.”

Elena leaned back.

The room blurred.

“You knew.”

“Yes.”

“For fourteen years.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

Elena laughed.

It came out ugly.

“Apparently that is the family motto nobody told me about.”

Sofia looked confused.

“Dante Salvatore says the same thing.”

Her mother went pale.

That frightened Elena more than anything else.

“You know Dante.”

“No.”

“You know who he is.”

“Everyone does.”

“Mom.”

Sofia looked toward the window.

“Your father worked for Antonio Salvatore before the Vales.”

“I know.”

That surprised her.

“Dante told you?”

“Yes.”

Sofia pressed both hands flat against the table.

“Miguel discovered Antonio and his brother Enzo were moving money through shipping companies for organized crime. He wanted out.”

“And he saved Dante.”

Her mother looked at her.

“You know that too.”

“Yes.”

Sofia’s eyes filled.

“Then Dante kept one promise.”

“What promise?”

Sofia shook her head.

“Not yet.”

Elena stood.

“No. I am done with not yet.”

Her mother closed her eyes.

“All right.”

She went to a cabinet and removed an old flour tin.

Inside was a key.

Not a house key.

A safety deposit key.

“Miguel gave me this the night before he died.”

Elena took it.

“Where?”

“First Chicago Federal. The branch on Madison.”

“What is in the box?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never opened it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because your father told me if anyone came asking about it, I was to say it did not exist.”

“Anyone?”

Sofia’s voice dropped.

“Especially a Salvatore.”

Elena stared at the key.

Her phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number.

A photograph.

Dante leaving the wedding ballroom with Elena.

Across his face, someone had drawn a red X.

Below it:

YOUR FATHER DIED BECAUSE HE CHOSE A SALVATORE.

DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE.

Elena showed her mother.

Sofia’s face collapsed.

“Oh God.”

“What?”

She gripped Elena’s wrist.

“We have to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because that message means Enzo knows you have the key.”

Elena frowned.

“Enzo Salvatore is alive?”

Sofia looked at her as though the answer should terrify her.

“He never died.”

“But Dante said—”

“No. Antonio died in prison.”

“Yes.”

“Enzo disappeared.”

Elena felt the pieces shift.

“Who is Enzo?”

Sofia’s voice fell to a whisper.

“Dante’s uncle.”

The man Miguel Reyes had warned Dante about.

Outside, a car door slammed.

Sofia turned toward the window.

Elena’s phone rang.

Dante.

She answered.

“Get away from the front windows.”

Her blood went cold.

“How do you know where I am?”

“I broke my promise.”

She almost yelled.

Then he said, “Elena, someone followed you after my security turned away.”

A shadow moved across the porch glass.

Dante’s voice sharpened.

“Take your mother and go out the back.”

The front door handle began to turn.

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And Elena understood that the past had not come back because of a wedding.

It had been waiting for her mother to finally hand over the key.