Chapter 10 - The False Victory
The underground clinic felt completely peaceful for the first time since they arrived.
Mara sat beside Dante on the small hospital bed, resting her head against his good shoulder while they watched the news.
Bianca Thorne had been apprehended trying to board a private jet to Switzerland.
The media was already dubbing it the political scandal of the century, and the FBI had officially retracted the manhunt for Dante.
The gruff doctor brought them two cups of hot coffee, smiling for the first time all night.
"I will arrange a private medical transport to move you to a secure island in the Caribbean by morning," the doctor promised before leaving them alone.
Mara traced slow, comforting circles on Dante's chest, imagining a quiet life on a sunny beach with their baby.
She had survived the cruelty of the Thorne mansion, the poison, and the terrifying shootout.
She finally belonged to a man who would burn the world down to keep her safe.
Dante closed his eyes, the heavy painkillers finally pulling him toward a deep, much-needed sleep.
"I will protect you forever, Mara," he murmured, his breathing evening out.
Mara smiled softly, feeling her own exhaustion threatening to pull her under.
Suddenly, Dante’s encrypted satellite phone vibrated violently on the metal side table.
Mara reached over carefully to silence it so it wouldn't wake him.
She glanced at the glowing screen, expecting to see a message from one of his loyal captains confirming the travel arrangements.
Instead, the caller ID displayed a completely blank, untraceable signal.
Before she could press the ignore button, the phone answered itself automatically on speakerphone.
A slow, chillingly familiar voice echoed through the quiet recovery room, sending a spike of pure ice straight through Mara's heart.
"You really thought a pathetic politician like Thorne was smart enough to orchestrate all of this, Dante?" the voice mocked softly.
Dante’s eyes snapped open instantly, all the color completely draining from his face as he recognized the voice.
It was the voice of a man who had officially died in a horrific car bombing fifteen years ago.
"The Senator was just a pawn I used to flush out the weak in my empire," the voice continued.
The heavy steel door of the recovery room slowly swung open.
Mara turned her head, her breath completely catching in her throat.
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Standing in the doorway, flanked by Silas and a dozen heavily armed mercenaries, was an older, terrifyingly scarred man who looked exactly like an older version of Dante.
"Hello, son," Lorenzo Russo smiled, racking the slide of his weapon. "It is time to come home."
