Chapter 5 - The Fiancée He Refused to Claim
Dante wanted Anna out of Bellweather.
Anna refused.
“You don't get to order me around.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I survived four years without you.”
“That wasn't survival. You were hidden.”
“That sounds suspiciously like survival.”
Victor watched them argue.
“You two haven't changed.”
Both turned toward him.
“Stay out of this,” they said simultaneously.
Victor almost smiled.
Anna noticed.
“So we used to argue?”
“Constantly.”
Dante said, “She was impossible.”
Anna raised an eyebrow.
“You proposed.”
“My greatest tactical error.”
“You're welcome to take the ring back.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Silence.
Dante looked away.
Anna’s teasing disappeared.
“You still love her.”
He looked at her.
“I don't know how to answer that without making you uncomfortable.”
“Try.”
Dante stepped closer.
“I loved Elena.”
Anna swallowed.
“I searched for her for four years.”
Closer.
“I buried an empty coffin because everyone told me she was dead.”
His voice remained controlled, but his eyes didn't.
“And now she's standing in front of me telling me her name is Anna.”
Anna whispered, “It is.”
“I know.”
“You keep calling me Elena.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Why?”
“Because you asked me to.”
That answer mattered.
Dante continued.
“You don't owe me Elena.”
Anna stared at him.
“I don't?”
“No.”
“You don't want your fiancée back?”
“More than anything.”
“Then—”
“But I won't force a dead woman onto someone who's trying to live.”
Anna’s eyes filled.
Dante stepped back.
“If your memories return, they return. If they don't…”
He paused.
“You're still you.”
Victor interrupted.
“We have a larger problem.”
Dante exhaled.
“You have terrible timing.”
“Lorenzo is coming.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
Dante immediately started issuing instructions.
Anna grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you out.”
“No.”
“Elena—”
“Anna.”
He corrected himself instantly.
“Anna. Please.”
She looked surprised by the word please.
Then her expression changed.
“I remember where the evidence is.”
Dante froze.
“What?”
“The piano.”
Everyone looked toward the old instrument.
Anna walked to it.
“The key bothered me because it wasn't supposed to be flat.”
She pressed middle C.
Flat.
“Why would that matter?” Victor asked.
“Because I tuned this piano.”
Dante stared.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Anna looked at him.
“I've been here before.”
She removed the front panel.
Behind the strings, taped beneath the wooden frame, was a small brass key.
Victor whispered, “You hid it.”
Anna held it up.
“A bank deposit key.”
Dante recognized the number.
“Chicago.”
Anna nodded.
“I put the evidence somewhere Lorenzo couldn't reach.”
Outside, tires rolled across gravel.
Dante looked toward the windows.
Three vehicles stopped.
Victor whispered:
May you like
“He’s here.”
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