Chương 1 - THE ONLY SAFE LIE
“You cannot stay in Chicago as a waitress. You’re a target.”
Dante Valente said it as though he were explaining weather.
Sienna stared at him from the other side of the library.
A fire burned behind an iron screen.
Snow pressed white against the tall windows.
Lucia sat in a leather chair near the hearth, drinking tea as though she had not used a stranger as a human shield less than an hour earlier.
Sienna wanted to scream.
Instead she said, “I have a shift at six tomorrow.”
Dante’s expression did not change.
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“You are not going back to the diner.”
“My rent does not accept mafia emergencies.”
“I will pay your rent.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is literally the point of rent.”
Lucia hid a smile behind her cup.
Sienna looked at her.
“Please don’t encourage him.”
Lucia lowered the cup.
“I have spent thirty-six years failing to discourage him.”
Dante ignored them both.
He walked toward the desk and opened a folder someone had apparently placed there during the drive.
Sienna noticed her name typed across the tab.
SIENNA MORETTI.
Her skin went cold.
“What is that?”
“Background.”
“You investigated me in twenty minutes?”
“Seventeen.”
“That is not better.”
Dante opened the file.
“Twenty-eight. Louis Diner for four years. Apartment in Pilsen. No criminal record. No significant debt except medical collections tied to your father.”
Sienna’s jaw tightened.
“Stop.”
He looked up.
“Your landlord filed a notice last week.”
“Stop.”
“Your father is Marco Moretti, fifty-eight, resident at Hawthorne State Care—”
“Stop reading.”
The room went silent.
Dante closed the folder.
Sienna’s eyes burned.
“That is my life.”
“Yes.”
“You had strangers turn it into a folder.”
“Yes.”
“You threw my phone onto a highway.”
“Yes.”
“And now you think writing checks fixes everything.”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
Dante leaned against the desk.
“I think writing checks fixes bills.”
His voice lowered.
“It does not fix the fact that two Santoro men saw you beside my mother.”
“Then tell them the truth.”
“I cannot.”
“Why?”
“Because truth is not protection.”
Sienna laughed once.
“That sounds like something criminals put on throw pillows.”
Lucia actually laughed.
Dante looked toward his mother.
“You created this.”
“I’m aware.”
“No, you seem entertained.”
“I’m alive.”
Her voice sharpened.
“So is she.”
The humor disappeared.
Lucia looked at Sienna.
“I am sorry.”
Sienna stared.
Lucia continued.
“I made a decision without your consent because I believed I had seconds.”
“You did.”
“Yes.”
“You made me pretend to be engaged to your son.”
“Yes.”
“You gave me a ring.”
Lucia looked at the emerald beneath the napkin Sienna had brought from the tea shop.
“Yes.”
“And now two killers think I’m connected to this family.”
Lucia’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
Sienna folded her arms.
“Then sorry feels small.”
“It is.”
Again, no defense.
Sienna hated how much harder anger became when people did not run from it.
Dante pushed away from the desk.
“There are three options.”
“I love when men who throw phones explain options.”
His jaw moved.
“Option one: you leave Chicago under another identity.”
“No.”
“Option two: we publicly deny any connection to you.”
“Sounds excellent.”
“And the Santoros assume you were a decoy, abduct you, and use you to test whether I care.”
Sienna stopped.
Dante continued.
“Option three: we confirm what they think they saw.”
She stared.
“No.”
Lucia set down her cup.
“Sienna.”
“No.”
Dante’s voice remained calm.
“You have not heard it.”
“I heard ‘confirm.’”
“You would become my fiancée publicly.”
“No.”
“Temporarily.”
“No.”
“With security.”
“No.”
“Compensation.”
“Absolutely no.”
Dante’s eyebrows rose.
Lucia looked almost impressed.
Sienna pointed at him.
“You do not get to solve this by buying me.”
“I am not buying you.”
“You are offering money for me to pretend I want to marry you.”
“That is called a contract.”
“That is called Tuesday in hell.”
Lucia covered another smile.
Dante looked annoyed.
Good.
Sienna continued.
“I have a father who sometimes remembers my name and sometimes thinks I’m my mother. I have three hundred and twelve dollars in checking. I have a landlord who leaves messages that begin with ‘Sienna, I’m trying to work with you,’ which is how people announce they are done working with you. I do not have room in my life to become tabloid fiancée to a man whose enemies carry guns into tea shops.”
Dante watched her.
When she finished, he asked:
“Are you done?”
“No.”
He waited.
She realized she was.
“Temporarily.”
One corner of his mouth almost moved.
Then Lucia said, “Dante, leave.”
He turned.
“What?”
“I want to speak to her.”
“No.”
Lucia stared.
He corrected.
“I don’t think that’s safe.”
“She is in a fortified house.”
“With you.”
Lucia smiled sweetly.
“You wound me.”
Dante looked at Sienna.
“You do not leave this room.”
She stared.
“Get out.”
Lucia laughed.
Dante did not.
Then, astonishingly, he left.
The oak door shut.
Sienna looked at Lucia.
“How did you do that?”
“I changed his diapers.”
“Powerful.”
“Extremely.”
Lucia poured more tea.
Her hands were steady now.
Sienna sat across from her.
“I’m not marrying your son.”
“No.”
Sienna blinked.
Lucia continued.
“I would not marry him either if I had options.”
Sienna laughed before she could stop it.
Lucia smiled.
“He is controlling.”
“Yes.”
“Arrogant.”
“Yes.”
“He believes security is a personality.”
“Yes.”
“And he has never had to choose between electricity and groceries.”
Sienna stopped smiling.
Lucia leaned forward.
“But he is right about one thing.”
“The Santoros.”
“Yes.”
Sienna looked toward the windows.
“Couldn’t you protect me without the engagement?”
“For a while.”
“How long?”
“Until they decide you matter.”
“I don’t.”
“To them, that is not the question.”
Lucia’s voice softened.
“The question is whether Dante behaves as though you matter.”
Sienna frowned.
“He doesn’t know me.”
“No.”
“Then why would they believe it?”
“Because he came personally.”
That landed.
Lucia continued.
“Dante does not collect civilians from danger. He sends men.”
“So?”
“He walked into the Gilded Leaf himself.”
“Because you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And I was beside me.”
Sienna stared.
Lucia’s expression became grim.
“The Santoros will build a story from that.”
“Then build a better one.”
Lucia looked at her carefully.
“That is what the engagement would be.”
Silence.
Sienna hated the logic.
“So I become a lie.”
“No.”
Lucia’s eyes moved to the emerald ring.
“You become a boundary.”
“How?”
“If they believe harming you would trigger war, they hesitate.”
Sienna looked at the ring.
“Hesitation buys time.”
The same words from the tea shop.
Lucia nodded.
Sienna rubbed her forehead.
“What would temporary mean?”
Lucia did not smile.
“Ask Dante.”
Of course.
The door opened before either called him.
Dante entered.
“You were listening.”
“No.”
Lucia raised one eyebrow.
He ignored her.
Sienna stood.
“If I even consider this, there are rules.”
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“Good.”
“Do not sound pleased.”
“I prefer rules to uncertainty.”
“That explains a lot.”
She counted on her fingers.
“One: my father gets protected, but he does not get moved unless I approve.”
Dante nodded.
“Agreed.”
“Two: nobody tells him I’m engaged if he is confused.”
“Agreed.”
“Three: I keep my own bank account.”
“Obviously.”
“Four: you replace my phone, but you do not read my messages.”
His expression changed.
“No.”
Sienna stared.
“Then we’re done.”
“Security needs access.”
“Metadata, tracker, whatever spy nonsense you use. Not messages to my father, not my friends.”
Dante thought.
“Security scan only. No content unless there is a specific threat and you are present.”
“Better.”
“Five?”
“I keep working.”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“Then we’re done.”
“Sienna.”
“I am not sitting in this mansion for six weeks pretending to be decorative.”
“Six weeks?”
“You said temporary.”
“I did not define it.”
“Define it.”
Dante looked toward Lucia.
His mother remained silent.
“Until the Santoro dispute is resolved.”
“How long?”
“Could be weeks.”
“Could be?”
“Months.”
“No.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
Sienna continued.
“I work.”
“Not at Louis.”
“Why?”
“Too exposed.”
“Then somewhere else.”
“You want a job?”
“I have one.”
“You cannot return to it.”
“Then you owe me a replacement, not an allowance.”
Lucia looked at Dante.
“She’s right.”
He stared at his mother.
She shrugged.
Dante exhaled.
“My company has restaurants.”
“I am not working for you.”
“Why?”
“Because then every dollar I have comes from the man I’m pretending to marry.”
He went still.
Sienna continued.
“I need something that stays mine.”
For the first time, his expression lost its hard edge.
“Fine.”
He looked toward the fire.
“My cousin owns a bookstore café in Evanston. Legitimate. Separate books. He does not report to me.”
Sienna almost smiled.
“You have a cousin with a bookstore café?”
“He disappoints the family.”
Lucia laughed.
Sienna said, “I want to meet him before agreeing.”
“Fine.”
“Six: no touching in public unless we discuss it.”
Dante raised an eyebrow.
“We would be engaged.”
“We would be lying.”
“People will expect—”
“They can expect.”
Lucia looked delighted now.
Dante said, “Hand-holding.”
“Ask.”
“Arm around you at events.”
“Ask.”
“Kiss?”
Sienna stared.
“Try it without asking and you will discover whether a teapot can stop a bullet.”
Lucia choked on tea.
Dante looked at Sienna for three long seconds.
Then:
“Agreed.”
“Seven: I can walk away.”
“No.”
Her face hardened.
He held up a hand.
“From the engagement, yes. From security while the threat exists, no.”
She thought.
“Security cannot imprison me.”
“Agreed.”
“Eight: I want to know exactly why the Santoros are at war with you.”
Dante went still.
“No.”
Sienna laughed.
“Then find another fiancée.”
Lucia looked at her son.
Dante’s jaw tightened.
Finally:
“My father broke a peace agreement fifteen years ago.”
“What agreement?”
“Territory. Ports. Political contracts.”
“And?”
“He took something from Rocco Santoro.”
“What?”
Dante looked at Lucia.
His mother’s face changed.
“A ledger,” she said.
Sienna frowned.
“What ledger?”
Lucia answered.
“One that proved both families were paying public officials.”
“Where is it?”
“No one knows.”
Dante continued.
“My father died without saying.”
“And Santoro thinks you have it.”
“Yes.”
“So this tea-shop assassination was about a fifteen-year-old ledger?”
“Partly.”
“What else?”
Lucia looked toward Dante.
He did not answer.
Sienna pointed between them.
“That look means something.”
Lucia sighed.
“Rocco believes I know where the ledger is.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
Sienna believed her.
Dante did not.
That was obvious.
“Interesting family.”
“You have no idea,” Lucia said.
Sienna looked at the emerald ring.
Then at Dante.
“Last rule.”
“What?”
“If we do this, your mother never uses me as a shield again.”
Lucia raised both hands.
“Agreed.”
Dante almost smiled.
Sienna took a breath.
“I have not said yes.”
“I know.”
“Stop looking like you won.”
“I am sitting.”
“You look victorious sitting.”
Lucia laughed.
Then someone knocked.
A guard entered.
“Boss.”
Dante turned.
“We checked Miss Moretti’s father.”
Sienna’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
The guard looked at her.
“Marco Moretti received a visitor this afternoon.”
She stood.
“Who?”
The guard’s face hardened.
“Rocco Santoro.”
The room changed.
Sienna stopped breathing.
“My father?”
“Safe.”
“Did he hurt him?”
“No.”
“What did he want?”
“We don’t know.”
Dante looked at the guard.
“Cameras?”
“Audio only in common areas. We pulled what we could.”
He handed Dante a tablet.
Dante listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
Sienna grabbed it.
A weak voice came through the recording.
Her father.
Marco.
Confused.
Frail.
Then another man.
Rocco Santoro.
“Marco, where did Lucia hide the book?”
Sienna froze.
Her father answered:
“She never had it.”
Rocco:
“Then who did?”
Marco laughed.
A thin, broken sound.
“I gave it to the girl.”
Sienna’s blood turned cold.
Rocco’s voice sharpened.
“What girl?”
Marco whispered one name.
“Sienna.”
The recording ended.
Every person in the library looked at her.
Dante’s face had gone completely still.
Sienna stared at the black screen.
Her father knew Lucia.
May you like
Her father knew the missing ledger.
And somehow, fifteen years ago, he had given it to Sienna.
