Aria's POV
I woke up screaming.
Elena grabbed me, holding tight while I shook. "It's okay. You're safe. We're safe."
But we weren't. The word from Lorenzo burned in my mind—This isn't over, Salvatore. It's just starting.
"He's going to kill us," I whispered. "My father. He'll kill everyone I care about."
"Your father is in jail," Elena reminded me kindly. "He can't hurt anyone from there."
"You don't understand." I pulled away from her, pacing the small bedroom Dante had given us in his safe place. "Lorenzo Morelli doesn't need to be free to hurt people. He has ties everywhere—police, judges, criminals. Being in jail just makes him angrier."
"Then we tell Dante. He'll protect us."
"Dante." I laughed bitterly. "The man who took me? Who started this whole nightmare?"
"The man who saved my life," Elena amended. "Who could have let Isabella kill both of us but chose not to. Who's been checking on you every hour since we got here to make sure you're okay."
I stopped walking. "He has?"
"You were passed out from shock. But yeah, he's been hanging outside the door like a worried boyfriend." Elena smiled slightly. "Which is weird, considering he's supposed to be a ruthless mafia boss."
Before I could reply, someone knocked.
Dante entered without waiting for permission, his face tight with stress. "We need to talk."
"About the threat from my father?" "About everything." He looked at Elena. "Alone, if possible."
Elena squeezed my hand. "I'll be right outside. Scream if you need me."
After she left, Dante and I stood in awkward silence. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his ice-blue eyes, his normally perfect appearance rumpled.
"You shouldn't have come to the warehouse," he said finally.
"You're welcome for saving your life."
"You didn't save my life. You almost got yourself killed." His voice was hard. "What were you thinking? You had no tool, no training, no plan—"
"I was thinking that my best friend was going to die because of me!" I shouted. "I was thinking that I'm sick of hiding while other people fight my wars! I was thinking that maybe for once in my sorry life, I could actually do something that mattered!"
The words hung in the air between us.
Dante stared at me, something shifting in his face. "Your life isn't pathetic."
"Isn't it?" Tears burned my eyes. "I'm twenty-six years old. I live in a studio room I can barely afford. I teach music to kids whose parents blame me when they're not prodigies. My father sends me money like I'm a bill he forgot to cancel. My sister tried to kill me. And now I'm hiding in a safe house because the war between you and Lorenzo has made me a target." I wiped my eyes angrily. "So yeah, Dante. My life is pretty pathetic."
He crossed the room and did something unexpected—he pulled me into his arms.
I froze, shocked. Then slowly, I let myself lean into him. He was warm and solid, and for the first time since this nightmare started, I felt almost safe.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair. "For all of it. For taking you. For bringing you into my revenge. For not realizing that you were innocent until it was too late."
"Why didn't you just let me go?" I asked. "When you found out Lorenzo didn't care about me, why keep me?"
Dante pulled back enough to look at my face. His thumb brushed away a tear on my face. "Because by then, I cared."
My breath caught. "What?"
"I spent fifteen years planning payback. Building a kingdom out of hate. Becoming the monster I needed to be to live." His ice-blue eyes held mine. "And then you showed up and told me that monsters aren't born. They're made. And maybe, just maybe, they can be unmade too."
"Dante—"
His phone rang, breaking the moment. He answered it, his face going pale as he listened.
"What?" I asked when he hung up. "What's wrong?"
"Lorenzo made bail an hour ago."
The room tilted. "That's impossible. He shot Isabella. He was at a crime scene—"
"He has ties. Claimed he was saving hostages from his mentally ill daughter. Self-defense. The judge bought it." Dante's jaw clenched. "He's out, Aria. And my sources say he went straight to the Castellano family."
"Why would he—" Then I understood. "Alessandro. Isabella's fiancé."
"Who now thinks Lorenzo's bastard daughter caused Isabella's death." Dante grabbed his jacket. "The Castellanos are one of the most important families in Chicago. If Lorenzo tells them you're responsible—"
"They'll want revenge," I finished.
"We need to move. Now. Pack whatever Elena and you need. We're leaving the city."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere Lorenzo can't reach." He headed for the door. "I have a place upstate. Remote. Secure. We'll stay there until I figure out how to end this permanently."
"Dante, wait." I caught his arm. "You can't keep running from this. Lorenzo won't stop. He'll hunt us forever."
"Then I'll deal with him."
"How? By killing him?" I searched his face. "You said you weren't like them. That you don't kill innocent people. But my father isn't innocent. If you kill him for revenge, doesn't that make you exactly what you've been trying not to become?"
Dante stared at me for a long moment. "What do you want me to do, Aria? Let him destroy everything? Let him kill you?"
"I want you to be smart." I took a breath. "Lorenzo's power comes from ties and reputation. We don't fight him with violence. We fight him with truth."
"What truth?"
"The truth about what he did to your family. The truth about how he treated his children. The truth about who he really is." I squeezed his arm. "You said you've been planning payback for fifteen years. But payback isn't making Lorenzo suffer. Revenge is making sure everyone knows exactly what kind of monster he is."
Something sparked in Dante's eyes. "You want to expose him publicly."
"I want to destroy his kingdom the way he destroyed yours—by taking away everything he values. His image. His power. His memory." I felt strength building in my voice. "And I know how to do it. Because I'm the secret he never wanted known. The proof that perfect Lorenzo Morelli is a lie and a coward who abandons his own children."
Dante studied my face like he was seeing me for the first time. "You're not the scared girl I took from that gala anymore."
"No." I met his eyes steadily. "I'm not. You wanted to turn me into a tool against my father? Congratulations. It worked."
A slow, dangerous smile spread across Dante's face. "Then let's go to war."
But before either of us could move, Marco burst through the door.
"Boss, we have a problem." He was out of breath. "Alessandro Castellano just posted on social media. He's offering five million dollars to anyone who brings him Aria Morelli. Alive."
My blood turned to ice. "Five million? For me?"
"It gets worse." Marco showed us his phone. "He's calling it justice for Isabella. Making you public enemy number one. Every thief, bounty hunter, and desperate person in the city is going to be looking for you."
Dante's face went hard. "How long do we have?"
"The post went viral ten minutes ago." Marco's face was grim. "I'd say maybe an hour before someone figures out where we are. This safe house isn't as secret as we thought."
Dante grabbed my hand. "We leave now. Elena too. Grab nothing but essentials."
As we rushed to gather Elena and leave, I heard voices outside. Shouting. Car doors banging.
"They're already here," Marco said, looking out the window. "At least twenty people. Maybe more coming."
Dante pulled out his gun. "Back door. Move."
We ran through the house, but when we reached the kitchen, we saw figures circling the back exit too.
We were stuck.
And somewhere in the growing crowd outside, someone was going to try to claim that five million dollar prize.
By turning me over to the man who wanted me dead.