Chapter 8 - The Price of Her SilenceBy noon, Olivia’s face was everywhere.
WAITRESS CLAIMS SECRET CONTROL OF MORETTI EMPIRE.
MYSTERY WOMAN LINKED TO MAFIA BOSS.
MORETTI’S NEW GIRLFRIEND OR CORPORATE EXTORTIONIST?
Olivia threw her phone onto Maya’s desk.
“I hate the internet.”
Maya kept typing.
“The internet loves you.”
“That’s worse.”
Carlo’s strategy was obvious.
Destroy her credibility before the board meeting.
A photograph showed Olivia leaving Dante’s townhouse.
Another showed Orion beside her.
One tabloid called her “the dog whisperer mistress.”
Olivia wanted to disappear.
Dante wanted to destroy several newspapers.
Maya stopped him from calling anyone.
“You do not threaten journalists.”
“I wasn’t going to threaten them.”
“What were you going to do?”
“Express disappointment.”
Maya stared.
Dante said, “Fine.”
Olivia almost laughed.
Then Peter Caldwell called.
Her manager sounded terrified.
“Olivia.”
“What?”
“I need to tell you something.”
Dante and Maya both looked up.
Peter continued.
“A man came to Belladonna last month.”
“Before I touched Orion?”
“Yes.”
Olivia’s skin prickled.
“What did he want?”
“Your employee file.”
She closed her eyes.
“You gave it to him.”
“I owed money.”
“To Carlo?”
“No. Gambling debt. Different people.”
“Peter.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her anger turned sharp.
“You sold my address?”
“I didn’t know.”
“How much?”
Silence.
“How much was I worth?”
“Five thousand.”
Olivia hung up.
For several seconds she could not speak.
Dante moved toward her.
She stepped away.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“Everyone keeps deciding I’m currency.”
“No.”
“My father used me as trustee.”
“To protect you and the company.”
“Carlo wants my vote. Peter sold my address. The press thinks I’m sleeping with you for money.”
Dante’s face tightened.
“And what do you think?”
“That I’m exhausted.”
She grabbed her coat.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You can’t.”
Olivia turned.
“Don’t say that.”
“Your apartment was broken into.”
“Then a hotel.”
“Carlo knows every Moretti property.”
“Then somewhere you don’t control.”
The words hit him.
He nodded.
Maya arranged a secure apartment through her firm.
Dante did not argue again.
That evening, Olivia stood alone in the unfamiliar kitchen.
Someone knocked.
She checked the security monitor.
Dante.
Alone.
She opened the door halfway.
“You’re becoming terrible at intimidation.”
“I brought food.”
“That is suspicious.”
“It’s Chinese.”
“More suspicious.”
He lifted the bag.
“Orion refused dinner again.”
Olivia opened the door.
The dog immediately entered behind Dante.
“You said alone.”
“I lied.”
“That feels more normal.”
They ate takeout on the floor because the apartment had almost no furniture.
For twenty minutes they did not discuss murder, money or Moretti Holdings.
Olivia told him about college.
Dante told her Orion hated rain.
She asked why he had never married.
He looked at her.
“That’s personal.”
“So is invading my employee file.”
He conceded.
“I was engaged once.”
“What happened?”
“I chose the family over her.”
“You regret it?”
“No.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
“That sounded convincing.”
“I regret what it taught me.”
“What?”
“That people close to me become targets.”
Olivia stopped eating.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The excuse.”
He frowned.
“You call it protecting people. But sometimes you’re just keeping everyone far enough away that they can’t hurt you.”
Dante stared at her.
“No one speaks to me like that.”
“That sounds unhealthy.”
A smile touched his face.
Small.
Real.
For a moment, Olivia forgot who he was.
Then he leaned slightly closer.
She felt it.
So did he.
Dante stopped.
“Olivia.”
“I know.”
He moved back.
Not because he did not want to kiss her.
Because he did.
And for the first time since they had met, she trusted his restraint more than his power.
Orion suddenly stood.
His ears lifted.
A faint sound came from the hallway.
Dante was on his feet instantly.
Someone tried the door.
Once.
Twice.
Then footsteps retreated.
Security guards caught a man near the elevator.
He carried no weapon.
Only a sealed envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel Marshall.
Alive.
The photograph was dated six months after the warehouse fire.
Olivia’s hands began shaking.
She looked at Dante.
“You said there was a body.”
“There was.”
May you like
She held up the photograph.
“Then whose body did you bury?”
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