PART 3
Clara Hughes stared at the photograph for nearly a minute without moving.
Her fingers trembled.
Not because of the pain in her body.
Not because of the five bullets still buried in her memory.
But because someone had been watching her long before she ever met Dante Marino.
Long before she entered the Marino estate.
Long before she saved Rosa’s life.
She looked again at the image.
It was definitely her.
Younger.
Standing outside her father’s hospital room.
Her hair shorter.
Her face thinner.
A version of herself from a time she thought she understood.
But now there was something she had never noticed.
The man in the background.
A tall figure wearing a dark coat.
His face was partially hidden.
But he wasn’t looking at her father’s room.
He was looking directly at Clara.
Like he had been waiting.
Like he already knew she would matter someday.
A cold feeling moved through her.
The door suddenly opened.
A nurse entered carrying medication.
“Ms. Hughes, you need to rest.”
Clara quickly turned the photograph face down.
“Who brought this?”
The nurse looked confused.
“What?”
“This envelope. Who delivered it?”
The nurse glanced at the table.
“I don’t know. It was already there when I came in.”
Clara’s heart sank.
A secure hospital floor.
Dante Marino’s personal guards outside.
And someone still managed to enter.
Someone powerful.
Someone connected.
After the nurse left, Clara slowly pushed herself higher against the pillows.
Every movement hurt.
But the pain couldn’t compete with the questions.
Why her?
Why Rosa?
Why now?
Then she remembered something.
The first day she met Dante.
The manila folder.
The background check.
The strange amount of information they had collected about her.
At the time, she thought it was because of the job.
A wealthy family hiring a private therapist would want security.
But now…
She wasn’t sure anymore.
Someone already knew who she was.
A few hours later, the hospital room door opened again.
This time, Dante walked in.
But something was different.
The coldness was back.
The emotion was hidden.
He looked like the man the city feared.
Except Clara noticed one thing.
His eyes.
They were exhausted.
“You found something.”
It wasn’t a question.
Dante looked at the photograph in her hand.
“You saw it.”
She nodded.
“Who is he?”
Dante didn’t answer immediately.
He walked to the window.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then:
“His name is Victor Rinaldi.”
The name meant nothing to Clara.
“Should I know him?”
“No.”
Dante turned around.
“And that’s exactly why I’m worried.”
He took the photograph from her.
“Victor Rinaldi disappeared eleven years ago.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Because everyone thought he was dead.”
Clara stared at him.
“Everyone?”
Dante nodded.
“My father believed he was responsible for a betrayal that nearly destroyed our family.”
She listened carefully.
“Who was he?”
Dante looked down at the photograph.
“He was the man who handled intelligence for my family.”
Clara frowned.
“Intelligence?”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“The person who knew everything.”
The room became quiet.
“He knew our enemies. He knew our allies. He knew every weakness.”
Clara’s voice lowered.
“And now he knows me.”
Dante didn’t respond.
Because that was the answer.
“You knew about him.”
It wasn’t an accusation.
It was a realization.
Dante looked away.
“I knew his name.”
“But not that he was watching me?”
“No.”
Clara studied his face.
“You’re lying.”
For the first time, Dante looked surprised.
Most people were afraid to challenge him.
She wasn’t.
“You knew something was wrong when you hired me.”
Dante remained silent.
“That’s why you paid so much.”
Silence.
“That’s why you wanted someone you could trust near Rosa.”
Still silence.
“Dante.”
He finally looked at her.
“I knew there was a possibility.”
“A possibility of what?”
His voice became quieter.
“That you were connected to something bigger.”
Clara felt hurt.
“You used me.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Too quickly.
Dante stepped closer.
“If I wanted to use you, Clara, I would have kept you away from the danger.”
His expression changed.
“You were never supposed to be involved.”
She looked down.
“But I was.”
“Yes.”
His voice softened.
“And that is my fault.”
The admission surprised her.
A man like Dante Marino didn’t apologize.
Not easily.
Not ever.
Before Clara could answer, Dante’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed instantly.
“What happened?”
A voice spoke through the phone.
Dante listened.
Then his expression became darker.
“Are you sure?”
A pause.
“Lock everything down.”
He ended the call.
Clara immediately knew.
Something had happened.
“What is it?”
Dante hesitated.
Then:
“Marco Bellini is gone.”
Her eyes widened.
“The man who tried to kill Rosa?”
Dante nodded.
“He escaped before we could question him.”
“How?”
Dante looked toward the photograph.
“That’s the problem.”
He placed the phone on the table.
“Someone helped him.”
Clara felt a chill.
“Victor?”
Dante didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know.
And that scared him.
Suddenly, the lights in the hospital flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
Emergency alarms started screaming.
Dante immediately moved.
He grabbed Clara’s hand.
“Stay down.”
The hospital hallway filled with darkness.
Then came the sound.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Calm.
Someone walking toward the room.
Not running.
Not hiding.
Like they wanted them to know they were coming.
Dante reached inside his jacket.
Clara saw the expression on his face.
The expression of a man preparing for war.
The door handle began to turn.
Then a voice came from the other side.
A voice Clara had never heard before.
But Dante recognized it instantly.
“Dante…”
A pause.
“You spent years protecting your family.”
The door slowly opened.
“Now let’s see how far you’ll go to protect the woman who was never supposed to survive.”
Dante raised his weapon.
And Clara realized the truth.
The shooting in the garage wasn’t an assassination attempt.
It was a message.
And whoever sent it…
Was standing right in front of them.
To be continued…
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