Chapter4

I sat at the vanity, staring at the pale woman in the mirror, and there was only one thought left in me: I have to survive. For my child, I have to survive.

A direct confrontation would only get us killed. Dante was unhinged. He didn't care whether I lived or died, but I had to care enough for both of us.

I had to wait. Wait for the right moment.

Until then, I had to make him believe he had broken me completely.

The next afternoon, Dante came out of his study and found me sitting on the living room carpet, repairing one of his shirts.

I kept my head down, fingers moving steadily through the fabric with focused, quiet efficiency.

"Come here." He sat on the sofa, a newspaper in hand.

I set my work down and walked to him, standing in front of him without a word.

He reached up and lifted my chin, studying me. "Still frightened?"

I dropped my gaze. My voice came out barely above a whisper. "Yes. I don't want to go back to the basement."

That seemed to please him. The grip on my chin eased. "Behave, and nothing will happen to you."

I nodded and turned to get him a glass of water.

The second my back was to him, every trace of compliance vanished from my eyes.

From my sewing kit, I took out a small black object—no bigger than a thumbnail. A micro recorder, sourced through a contact I'd been very careful about. I tucked it into the lining of the shirt and secured it with a few tight stitches.

This shirt—Dante planned to wear it tomorrow for a meeting with an important client.

That afternoon, I made an excuse about needing to go into the city for supplies, and paid a visit to Valentina.

I knew what she liked. She liked to show off. She liked to watch me diminish.

"Well, if it isn't the shadow wife." She was draped across her high-rise sofa with a glass of red wine, looking like the cat who got the cream. "What's the matter—did Dante hurt you again?"

I lowered my head, twisting the hem of my jacket, letting my voice shake. "No… I just wanted to see how you were."

"See how I was?" She laughed. "Or find out what Dante's been up to?"

I looked up at her with wet eyes. "I just… I wanted to know if he's all right."

Valentina seemed to savor that. She leaned closer, setting down her wine glass.

"I'll tell you, why not. Dante's been working on a major deal. If it goes through, he moves up another level in the family. And then you'll have even less standing than you do now."

I let my voice tremble. "A major deal? What kind of deal?"

She lowered her voice with theatrical mystery. "I can't tell you specifics—but you know he has a warehouse on the east side of the city? What's inside is worth a fortune."

I filed every word away, and under my jacket, I pressed the button on the recorder in my pocket.

Valentina talked for a long time—about Dante's business dealings, his habits and preferences—each sentence another piece of ammunition for me.

Back home, I locked myself in my room and transferred everything I'd recorded to my laptop.

Then I organized it with the account records and photographs I'd taken in the study, compressed it all into an encrypted file package. Enough to put Dante in prison.

I moved everything onto a flash drive—barely larger than a thumbnail. I slid it into the lining of an old coat.

My mother's coat. The only thing she'd left me before I married Dante. He had always refused to touch it—far too shabby for a man of his standing, he'd said. Which meant it was the safest place in the house.

I ran my fingers over the worn fabric, the familiar texture of the material beneath my palms.

Mom, I prayed silently, watch over me. Help me take my child and walk out of here in one piece.

Everything was ready now. All I needed was the moment.

That evening, Dante came home to find me pressing the suit he planned to wear the next day.

"Big meeting tomorrow?" I asked quietly.

"Yes." He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. "Why?"

"No reason." I kept my eyes down, masking the tension in them. "Just wondering if there's anything you'd need me to prepare."

"Nothing." He stood and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. "All you have to do is behave. That's the greatest help you can give me."

I held myself rigid and smiled. "I will."

He kissed my cheek, then went to shower.

I watched his retreating back.

Your good days, Dante, are almost over.