184 When Manhattan’s Most Feared Crime Boss Found His Traumatized Daughter Asleep in My Waitress Apron, He Thought I Was a Stranger—Until He Discovered My Secret Past Was the Only Key to Saving His Missing Wife / Chapter 13 / 100

Chapter 13 - The Proof of Life

On the tiny screen, the resolution was grainy and washed out in harsh fluorescent light, but there was no mistaking the woman tied to the steel utility chair.

Clara Moretti was pale and visibly exhausted, her dark hair tangled around her collarbones, but her posture remained defiant. A digital timer on the wall behind her counted down from six hours. Standing just outside the frame was the silhouette of a man in an immaculate overcoat, holding a printed copy of that morning's newspaper against her shoulder.

"Three hours," a voice disguised through an electronic modulator spoke from the speakers. "Bring Sarah Vance to the Blackwood gate alone, Dante. Deliver the ledger and the girl, or you will receive Clara piece by piece."

The video cut to black.

Dante stared at the dark screen, his knuckles white as his thumb traced the rim of the phone. "Sarah Vance," he muttered softly, testing the name on his tongue before looking up at me. "Your father wasn't just an engineer. His name was Vance."

"My father was Marcus Vance," I confessed, my voice remarkably calm despite the violent pounding in my chest. "Victor Croft’s former partner. When Victor betrayed him twenty years ago, my mother changed my name and hid me in foster homes across New Jersey. I grew up serving coffee and scrubbing diner counters because living as Marcus Vance’s daughter was a death sentence."

"And Clara?" Dante asked, stepping closer, his gray eyes searching every corner of my face for deceit. "How does Clara know you?"

"She doesn't know me," I answered honestly. "Or at least, I thought she didn't. But my father always said he left an insurance policy with the Moretti family before Croft came for him. If Clara has that cipher, she knows that Marcus Vance’s true heir is the only person who can unlock it without triggering the thermal purge."

Arthur began laughing again, a wet, rattling sound from the chair. "You see? You can't win, Dante! If you take your army to Blackwood, Victor executes Clara before your men can breach the gate. If you send Sarah in alone, Victor kills her and takes the cipher anyway. You have four hours before the timer expires."

Dante didn't answer Arthur. Instead, he stepped forward, drew his suppressed Kimber .45 from his shoulder holster, and pressed the muzzle firmly between Arthur’s eyebrows.

"Wait," I said, placing a firm hand on Dante’s forearm.

Dante didn't lower the gun, but his muscles tightened under my palm. "He breached my home, Sarah. He threatened my daughter."

"And he knows the outer defense perimeter at Blackwood," I said, stepping between Dante and the bound man. "If we kill him now, we walk blind into Croft’s kill zone. We keep him alive as leverage. Croft thinks Arthur is still securing this house. We use Arthur’s radio frequency to feed them false updates until we're inside the gates."

Dante looked down at my hand on his arm, then slowly lowered the weapon. The shadow of a dark, dangerous respect flickered across his face.