Chapter 2 - The Boss Who Watched Too Closely
Three days later, Dante called Elena into his office.
Tony delivered the message.
“The boss wants you upstairs.”
Elena nearly dropped a socket wrench.
“Why?”
Tony smirked.
“Maybe he finally figured out you’re annoying.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Elena wiped grease from her hands.
Dante’s office overlooked the garage through floor-to-ceiling glass.
When she entered, Luca Marino stood beside the desk holding a thin folder.
Elena recognized danger immediately.
Information.
Dante sat behind the desk.
“Close the door.”
She did.
“Sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
Luca looked amused.
Dante did not.
“Sit.”
Elena sat.
Dante opened the folder.
“Eli Ross.”
Her mouth went dry.
“Born in Rockford.”
Elena nodded.
“Mother deceased.”
“Yes.”
“Father unknown.”
“Yes.”
“Dropped out of high school.”
“Yes.”
“No social media.”
“I don’t like social media.”
“No driver’s license.”
“Suspended.”
“For what?”
Elena hesitated.
“Speeding.”
“How fast?”
“Very.”
Luca coughed to hide a laugh.
Dante’s eyes remained fixed on her.
“Your file exists.”
Elena forced herself to breathe.
“That sounds good.”
“It sounds manufactured.”
Silence.
Dante leaned forward.
“You know engines better than men who have been rebuilding them for twenty years. You speak like someone educated. You don’t drink with the mechanics. You never date. You never talk about family. And according to payroll, you cash every check instead of using a bank account.”
Elena swallowed.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Then maybe decide before interrogating me.”
Luca’s eyebrows rose.
Dante leaned back.
Most men apologized when Dante Moretti looked at them like that.
Elena was too terrified to remember to be polite.
Strangely, Dante smiled.
“Get out.”
She blinked.
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
Elena stood.
At the door, Dante said, “Ross.”
She stopped.
“People lie for two reasons.”
Elena looked back.
“Fear or profit.”
His gaze held hers.
“I don’t think you’re here for money.”
That night, Elena considered leaving.
She packed everything she owned into one duffel bag.
Then she stared at the snow outside the tiny room she rented above a laundromat.
Run where?
Marco controlled half the people her father knew.
Dante controlled the other half.
At Moretti Motors, at least nobody knew she was Elena.
Not yet.
She unpacked.
The following week, Dante began appearing in the garage more often.
At first, Elena assumed he was watching her.
Then she realized he was also asking questions.
“What’s wrong with the Alfa?”
“Oil pressure.”
“Which cylinder?”
“Four.”
“How do you know?”
“I listened.”
He began bringing cars directly to her.
One evening, Elena was alone beneath a 1971 Ferrari when polished shoes appeared beside her shoulder.
“You’re working late.”
She rolled out.
Dante stood above her.
“So are you.”
He held out a coffee.
Elena stared at it.
“What?”
“For you.”
“Why?”
“Because you look exhausted.”
“That doesn’t explain why the most feared man in Chicago brought his mechanic coffee.”
Dante’s mouth twitched.
“Maybe I’m improving employee morale.”
“You terrify employee morale.”
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Elena froze.
Dante noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You looked surprised.”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look human.”
Dante stared at her.
Elena immediately regretted it.
Then he handed her the coffee.
“Careful, Ross.”
“About what?”
“Eventually somebody might mistake that mouth for confidence.”
Weeks passed.
Their conversations became easier.
Dante discovered Eli read history books.
Eli discovered Dante secretly restored antique motorcycles.
Dante learned Eli hated olives.
Elena learned Dante hated dishonest people.
That last part made every conversation more dangerous.
One night they were working alone when Dante said, “Why cars?”
Elena kept tightening a bolt.
“My brother.”
“The dead one.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Crash.”
Dante was quiet.
“My older brother was shot when I was twenty-seven.”
Elena looked up.
“I’m sorry.”
“People say that.”
“They usually don’t know what else to say.”
“No.”
Dante leaned against the workbench.
“But you do.”
Elena looked away.
“Maybe because I understand.”
Something changed after that.
Dante stopped treating Eli like an employee.
Not entirely.
But enough.
He invited Eli to eat in the kitchen when work ran late.
He occasionally asked for opinions unrelated to cars.
He even began letting Eli into the private portion of his estate garage.
That was where Elena made the first serious mistake.
She got comfortable.
One cold Thursday night, the entire household had gone quiet.
Elena entered the estate kitchen looking for water.
Dante was standing by the counter in shirtsleeves.
His black tattoos were visible along both forearms.
“You’re still here?”
“Finished the Jaguar.”
“At midnight?”
“You said you wanted it tomorrow.”
Dante poured her water.
“You always do exactly what people ask?”
Elena laughed softly.
“You have no idea.”
Dante looked at her.
Too long.
Elena became aware of every disguise.
The loose clothing.
The cap.
The binding beneath her shirt.
“Why are you staring?”
“I’m trying to understand something.”
“What?”
Dante stepped closer.
“Why I think about you when you’re not around.”
Elena’s blood turned cold.
“Boss—”
“Dante.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
He moved closer.
Elena backed against the counter.
“Dante.”
His hand touched the side of her neck.
She stopped breathing.
He looked conflicted.
Almost angry with himself.
Then Dante Moretti kissed Eli Ross.
Only once.
Briefly.
But unmistakably.
When he pulled back, neither of them moved.
Dante whispered, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Elena’s entire life tilted.
Because the terrifying part was not that Dante had kissed her.
It was that for one second—
May you like
she had kissed him back.
---
