Dante’s Version of Loyalty
Chapter 07 - Dante’s Version of Loyalty
Dante came to Alessandro’s study alone.
No lawyer.
Alessandro told him to get one.
Dante refused.
“That is stupid.”
“Probably.”
“Get one.”
Dante stared.
Then called counsel.
Good.
Forty minutes later, with Dante’s lawyer on speaker, Alessandro asked the questions.
Not as boss.
As potential witness.
Important.
“Did I tell you to keep Calumet quiet?”
“Yes.”
“What exact words?”
Dante remembered.
“Keep this contained until we know what failed. No bodies in the press if you can stop it.”
Alessandro closed his eyes.
There.
He had said bodies.
Not names.
Not families.
Bodies.
Thirty-five years old.
Trying to sound hard enough for Silvio.
Disgusting.
“Did I tell you to intimidate workers?”
“No.”
“Suppress evidence?”
“No.”
“Pay people?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Voss I wanted it quiet?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you did.”
Fair.
“What did you think quiet meant?”
Dante took time.
“Control media. keep employees from freelancing. route families through counsel.”
“And threats?”
“I knew Silvio’s people used them.”
“When?”
“Within a week.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
There.
“Why?”
“You were taking over the family.”
“That is not an answer.”
Dante looked at him.
“You wanted proof you could handle it.”
There.
“And telling me Silvio was threatening workers would make me look weak?”
“No.”
Dante swallowed.
“It would make me responsible for making you stop him.”
Silence.
That was different.
“Explain.”
Dante had been twenty-nine.
His father worked for Victor.
His brother depended on Rienzi contracts.
Dante believed loyalty meant absorbing ugly details before they reached the new boss.
He handled.
Filtered.
Protected.
Same word everyone used before doing something without permission.
Alessandro laughed bitterly.
“Did you know about Kwame’s photograph?”
“Yes.”
There.
His pulse changed.
“When?”
“After Voss took it.”
“What happened?”
“I never saw the image.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes.”
“Voss?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Too blurry to establish timing.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No.”
Silence.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Dante’s face tightened.
“Because you had already signed the global release.”
“So?”
“I thought reopening would destroy you before you had control.”
There.
Again.
Loyalty as editing.
“And Victor’s signature?”
Dante went still.
That mattered.
“What do you know?”
“Silvio had documents brought to hospital.”
“Did Victor sign?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see?”
“No.”
“Then why the face?”
Dante looked at his lawyer’s voice on speaker.
The lawyer said:
“Answer truthfully.”
Dante nodded.
“Because I saw Victor’s right hand two days earlier.”
Paralyzed.
Could not hold a pen.
Alessandro felt cold.
“Did you challenge Silvio?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Same reason.”
“Say it.”
“I was afraid.”
There.
Not loyalty.
Fear.
Better word.
Dante continued.
“Your father was still alive. Silvio controlled half the old crews. You had the title, not the obedience.”
True.
Alessandro knew it.
That did not erase anything.
Then:
“My brother’s company.”
Dante looked down.
“I steered work to him.”
“Did I know?”
“No.”
“Kickbacks?”
“No.”
“Threat work?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“About one hundred twenty thousand of the four hundred.”
Alessandro nodded.
“Will you disclose it?”
“Yes.”
“To prosecutors?”
“If asked.”
Wrong.
Alessandro’s face hardened.
“Not if asked.”
Dante stared.
“You want me to volunteer.”
“Yes.”
“That may expose you too.”
“I know.”
There.
Dante looked almost angry.
“You think confession makes it clean?”
“No.”
Good.
“I think hiding makes it continue.”
Silence.
Then Alessandro said:
“You’re suspended.”
Dante went still.
“From security command.”
“How long?”
“Until independent counsel reviews everything.”
Dante’s face tightened.
“Who protects you?”
“Not your problem.”
That hurt him.
Good.
Then Alessandro added:
“Paid.”
Dante almost laughed.
“Generous.”
“No.”
“It prevents pressure to cooperate based on money.”
His lawyer approved.
Good.
Dante left.
No dramatic betrayal.
No gun.
Just a man whose loyalty had become one of the systems under investigation.
Then Alessandro called Genevieve.
“Come to the estate.”
She arrived at dusk.
He told her about Dante.
She listened.
Then said:
“What about us?”
There.
Not romantic enough to postpone.
Alessandro looked at the engagement ring on her hand.
“I don’t know.”
Genevieve’s face tightened.
“That’s fair.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“It isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know one thing.”
He held out his hand.
Not demand.
She understood.
Slowly removed the ring.
Placed it in his palm.
No tears.
That made it worse.
“The engagement is over,” Alessandro said.
Genevieve closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Not because Calumet is false.”
“I know.”
“Because you entered my life with an undisclosed purpose.”
“Yes.”
“And because I cannot investigate you while promising marriage.”
“Yes.”
Good.
No argument.
Then Genevieve said:
“I still love you.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“I know.”
Not I love you too.
Not yet.
She nodded.
Then:
“Do you want the files?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send through counsel.”
Good.
She turned to leave.
At the door, Alessandro said:
“Genevieve.”
She stopped.
“Did you ever plan to take money from me?”
“No.”
“Control shares?”
“No.”
“Use the marriage to hurt Silvio?”
“Yes.”
There.
She looked back.
“I thought if he feared discovery, he would move records.”
Alessandro almost smiled bitterly.
“He did.”
“Then it worked.”
“That does not make it right.”
“No.”
She nodded.
Then left.
An hour later, Alessandro opened his father’s old hospital file.
Victor’s neurologic notes.
Day of the trust resolution:
Right upper extremity flaccid.
Unable to grasp.
Speech severely impaired.
The signature could not be his.
Someone had forged Victor Rienzi’s name.
But the notary line beneath it belonged to someone still alive.
Margaret Vale.
May you like
Wife of Martin Vale, the estate operations director who had disabled the west-wing camera.
And suddenly the gala, the trust, and the old harbor accident all returned to the same family employee still working inside Alessandro’s house.
