Chapter 11
I reached Elena’s room as the priest lifted his hand over her IV line.
He was not praying.
He was injecting something.
I hit him so hard he crashed into the wall.
Rosa screamed.
Luis woke and lunged at him.
Harris grabbed the syringe before it emptied.
Nurses flooded the room.
Elena stirred, confused and weak.
“Daddy?”
Luis climbed onto the bed and held her.
“I’m here. You’re safe.”
The priest’s collar had twisted sideways.
His face was bleeding.
I recognized him now.
Father Paul Devlin.
He had blessed my mother’s coffin.
He had prayed over Nico’s grave.
He had eaten at my table.
Harris cuffed him.
“Who sent you?”
Father Paul looked at me.
“God forgives desperate men.”
I stepped toward him.
“I don’t.”
He flinched.
Harris blocked me.
“Dante.”
I stopped because Elena was watching.
She had already seen too much.
Tony pulled the priest’s phone.
“Victor texted him ten minutes ago.”
“What did it say?”
Tony read quietly.
Finish the Bellandi bloodline.
Rosa clutched Elena tighter.
Luis stared at me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Victor believes Elena belongs to my family.”
“She belongs to us.”
“Yes.”
I meant it.
But the truth was now a target painted across her tiny back.
Harris took Father Paul away.
At dawn, I moved Elena, Luis, and Rosa to a secure floor under police guard.
My men covered every entrance.
For the first time in years, I worked beside law enforcement openly.
Some of my men hated it.
I did not care.
At 8:00 a.m., my phone rang.
Private number.
I answered.
Victor did not waste breath.
“You found the priest.”
“You’re running out of friends.”
“Friends are replaceable.”
“So are cowards.”
He laughed.
“You sound like your father.”
“You killed Nico.”
“He made choices.”
“You murdered a boy’s father before she was born.”
“And your mother stole the child from me.”
“She saved her.”
“She hid my leverage.”
The word made me sick.
Leverage.
That was all Elena had ever been to him.
A handle to pull.
A weakness to exploit.
Victor continued.
“Give me the ledger, Dante, and the child lives.”
“She is already alive.”
“For now.”
Then he sent a photo.
My blood froze.
It was my mother’s grave.
Freshly dug open.
May you like
On the coffin lid lay a note.
You bury secrets badly.
