Chapter 16 - The Truth Comes to LightBack at the penthouse, the digital clock on the bedside table read 3:15 AM.
Lena was sitting upright in bed, the lamp lit, her arms crossed over her chest. The moment Dante walked quietly through the bedroom door, she knew. She saw the dust on his shoulders, the faint smell of gunpowder in his wake, and the heavy, grim set of his jaw.
"You lied to me," Lena said, her voice completely calm, which was infinitely more terrifying than if she had screamed.
Dante stopped dead in his tracks. He closed the bedroom door softly behind him, locking it before walking slowly toward the bed. "Lena... go back to sleep. I'll explain everything in the morning."
"No," Lena said, her eyes flashing with a sharp, defensive fire. "You will explain it right now, Dante Moretti. You’ve been sneaking out, receiving encrypted messages, and coming home smelling like a battlefield. And don't you dare tell me it's just 'business anomalies' anymore."
Dante let out a long, ragged sigh, dropping the manila folder onto the center of the mattress.
Lena looked down at the photos. When she saw the pictures of her ten-year-old twins walking outside their school, her breath hitched, and the color drained entirely from her face. Her hand flew to her mouth, and a sudden, violent wave of terror gripped her heart.
"Who... who took these?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"The Sicilian syndicate, in alliance with the remnants of the Vance family," Dante said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking her cold hands in his. "They aren't just targeting my ports, Lena. They are targeting our family."
"And Sofia?" Lena asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at him. "Where does she fit into all of this?"
"She came to me with the files," Dante admitted honestly, leaving nothing out. "She betrayed her own handlers to save her own skin. But she used us as bait, Lena. We were ambushed tonight at the South Chicago warehouse."
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Lena pulled her hands gently from his grasp, standing up and walking to the window. She stared out at the dark Chicago skyline, her mind racing with a mother’s fierce, protective instinct.
"We can't just wait for them to make the next move," Lena said, turning around slowly to face her husband. Her expression had transformed from fear into an unyielding, cold determination—the exact same look Dante had fallen in love with ten years ago. "If they want war, we give them war. But we do it together."
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