CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TWO SUNRISES. TWO SUNSETS. That was how long I was forced to wait for Dante to finally return to life, for the pain to be manageable enough for the staff to step down his medications. I continued to sit with my father whenever he was awake, which wasn’t much. The remainder of my time was spent in the room next door, where I’d hold Dante’s hand, wishing there were something I could do to ease his pain. I had several visitors in the interim. Mila barely left my side, and Quinn stopped by to check on me, reassuring me that Blake’s death wasn’t my fault, even though I knew he would still be alive if I hadn’t involved him in this mess in the first place.
Just as the sun rose on Tuesday, Dante’s eyelids fluttered open, a small smile crossing his lips when he saw me sitting by his side. It was the first sign of clarity he’d shown in days. The staff made the decision last night to start stepping down his pain meds to see how he did. At first, I hated the idea of him suffering any more than he already had. But when I was treated to that breathtaking smile of his, that smile I thought I’d never see again, it was worth it.
“Hey,” he croaked out in a raspy voice.
“Hey.” I took his outstretched hand and squeezed, relishing the warmth of his rough skin against mine. My eyes remained steady on his. I never wanted to stop staring into those deep pools, grateful to see the glimmer of life within. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been beaten and stabbed.” He ran his free arm over his stomach, wincing.
I laughed slightly at his ability to make light of what we’d been through. We needed it; otherwise, I feared we’d never move on.
“How are you doing?” he pressed, his eyes scanning my body for any sign of harm.
“I’m okay. I was stuck in a bed for thirty-six hours while they flushed my system of all the drugs I’d been given to keep me knocked out. And I was treated for dehydration. Other than that, I’m fine.”
His eyes narrowed on me and he ran his thumb over my knuckles, his delicate touch soothing me. “How about other than physically?”
I took a sharp inhale of air, my lower lip trembling. “I can’t sleep,” I admitted, swallowing back my tears. “Every time I close my eyes…”
“I know.” He offered me an encouraging smile. “We’ll get through this.”
I blew out a long breath, allowing his reassurance to wrap me in some sort of comfort, when the sound of a throat clearing tore through the room. We both looked toward the doorway to see James Harrison’s tall, lanky frame standing there. I’d grown so accustomed to seeing him in a suit, I almost didn’t recognize him in a pair of jeans and a black button-down shirt. His dark hair had grayed over the years, wrinkles becoming more numerous as he aged, but I saw it. In his eyes. In his nose. In his smile. The resemblance between Dante and him was unmistakable. How had I never seen it before?
“May I come in?”
I looked at Dante, who didn’t even hesitate before nodding. “Of course.”
“Thank you,” he replied, walking into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed. “How are you doing? I heard they started lowering your pain meds.”
“Yes. Everything is still sore and my stomach burns, but I’m alive.” He looked at me, smiling.
“That’s the important thing,” James added.
“Yes, it is,” Dante agreed.
There was a brief pause as I looked between both men, wondering what the dynamic was here. I had been under the impression Dante still harbored a great deal of animosity toward his biological father. Now I wasn’t sure what to think.
“I came to check on your recovery but also to give you both an update on the investigation,” James said finally. “Away from your father.” He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Your father?” Dante lifted a brow.
“He made it. He survived. Marjorie missed hitting any vital organs. His spinal cord was nicked, so he’ll be in a wheelchair for a while, but he’s alive.”
He parted his lips, stunned by this unexpected turn of events. “Eleanor, that’s incredible.”
“It took everyone by surprise…including Marjorie,” James stated. “But even with Francis’ statement and the confession Bradley recorded corroborating everything, she’s been keeping to her version of events.” He looked at me, then back at Dante. “She insists Francis was the one behind it all, that she was just an innocent victim.”
“So Bradley was trying to help?” I furrowed my brow. “But—”
“He was on our side all along,” James admitted. “Well, after I figured out he was being blackmailed to play a part, that is.”
“How?” My eyebrows gathered in as I stared at him.
He opened his mouth to answer, then paused, grabbing a chair and pulling it closer to Dante and me. “I should probably start at the beginning. It’s kind of complicated.”
I looked at Dante for some sort of explanation, only to be met with a reassuring smile on his face. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he already knew the story. But if he knew about Bradley, why hadn’t he mentioned anything when we were locked up in that slaughterhouse, moments away from death? I had trouble wrapping my brain around this.
“It all started when I heard of Gabriella’s passing.” James swallowed hard, frowning, appearing genuinely remorseful. “I just wish it didn’t take the death of someone I cared about to make me finally wake up. Despite my wife’s protests, I jumped on a plane and headed to Italy for the funeral.”
“I was livid when I saw him there,” Dante added. “I couldn’t believe he’d be so bold as to finally want to be a part of her life when it was over, especially after years of pretending neither one of us existed. He didn’t make any excuse for his behavior, though, even when I raised my voice. He said he wanted to make things right, make up for how he’d acted toward my mother, toward me…toward Lilly. It took me a while to believe him.”
“So I told him I would look into Sprylif, the drug Lilly had been given the week leading up to her death. I didn’t expect to find anything, but I wanted to show Dante my words were true, that I wanted to make amends for my past behavior. I figured this was a good way of doing so.”
“But you found things, didn’t you?” I pressed.
“Not at first. Yes, I saw there was a slight increase of deaths over a short period of time, but nothing statistically significant to necessitate us looking into the drug. With drugs like this, particularly those that are meant to treat a life-threatening disease, there are always spikes and falls.” He pinched his lips together. “But then I learned of the death of Cynthia Edelman, the woman who just so happened to be chief legal counsel for the pharmaceutical company that manufactured Sprylif. I remember reading about it when it happened, but it wasn’t until recently that I learned who Cynthia Edelman really was.”
I nodded. “Lauren Hall. My real mother.” I looked down.
James grabbed my hand, and I shot my eyes to his. He offered me a slight smile. “I’ve known your father a very long time. We served together. He saw how happy I was with Gabriella when we were deployed in Italy. He encouraged me to forget about what my parents thought I should do. Like you, I came from a long line of politicians. I never loved my wife. Hell, I’d only joined the army to help in an eventual run for the presidency. And Carly, my wife… She had the right background to help propel me to that level. But your father tried to encourage me to follow my heart. He had said, ‘You only live once’.”
“But you didn’t follow your heart, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. And it’s always been the biggest regret of my life. I thought money and power would make me happy, and they did for the longest time. But none of it was real. Your father loved Lauren. I had no idea they were sleeping together all those years ago, not until I went to him after I began looking into Sprylif and realized who Cynthia Edelman was. He was reluctant at first, then he finally told me everything. How they had an affair, which resulted in a pregnancy and a baby. Unfortunately, Lucas Merriweather found out about that baby, too.”
“I don’t understand why he cared so much. He wasn’t the one in office.”
“That’s the dark side of politics, Ellie. The side so many people won’t talk about. Your father had this sort of star quality to him. People called him the next Ronald Reagan. Lucas saw a proverbial gold mine in that, so it became his mission to do whatever necessary to help your father pave the same path as Reagan…all the way to the White House.”
“And a baby he fathered with a college intern would ruin that.”
“Most certainly.”
I stared into the distance, a knot building in my throat at the thought of how helpless my father must have felt for years, forced to remain silent by a power-hungry man.
“So how does Bradley factor into all of this?” I asked after a moment, snapping back to the present.
“After a bit of pushing on my part, Francis finally told me the truth, that Lauren, or Cynthia, hadn’t committed suicide. That he faked her death, then made her go into hiding. When I asked why, he told me about all the suspicious incidents the weeks prior. An out of control car. A gas leak. A mugging. A bomb threat. So I did what it sounds like your investigator, Blake, did. I looked into these events, was able to get my hands on video feeds many of the area businesses had from their security cameras. One man made an appearance at every single one of them.”
“Bradley,” I said.
“Yes.”
“That’s when James reached out to me again,” Dante explained. “He told me Bradley was involved, that Cynthia Edelman was still alive, and that Francis had an affair with her when they were younger. I didn’t want to believe him at first, then he—”
“Told you who my real mother was,” I said in an even voice. I looked at Dante, his expression remaining fixed.
“I still wasn’t sure whether or not to trust him. Part of me thought this was his way of hooking me. But what was his reason for doing so? The more I thought about it, the more I knew he was probably telling the truth, the more I knew I had to do everything to protect you from this truth. I hated the thought of causing you any more pain. That was why I wanted to take you back to Italy so quickly when we reconnected. I wanted to get you away from this life, to give you a new start where your past didn’t matter anymore.”
“But didn’t you think I had a right to know the truth?”
“Of course, but—”
“I told him not to,” James admitted. “Francis warned me that Merriweather had a hand in this, that he was just waiting to find proof of his involvement. I’ve been in politics long enough. I’d heard rumors of other situations with Merriweather’s mark. You didn’t mess with him, so I cautioned Dante if he wanted you to stay alive, you couldn’t know. Not yet.”
“And you listened to him?” I lifted a brow at Dante.
“I wanted to tell you the truth, I thought you deserved to know the truth, but there was this part of me that had to consider the possibility that James was right. What if I told you and something happened to you? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. So I decided I’d rather lose your love than you lose your life.”
I studied Dante, unsure how to react to the news that he would listen to his estranged father before considering my needs. Then I straightened my spine, turning back to James, keeping my hand enclosed in Dante’s, my mind reeling.
“How did you figure out Marjorie was involved, too?”
“Dante told me about the emails Francis sent to Cynthia…at least according to Bradley. It didn’t sit right with me. I looked at the dates the emails were allegedly sent from a library here in Southern California. Well, that was their one slip up. The day before one of the emails was sent, the one threatening Cynthia to get rid of the ‘Dante Luciano problem or suffer the consequences’, Francis had checked in and boarded a flight from LAX to SFO, along with one Cynthia Edelman.”
“Marjorie had mentioned they were still sleeping together,” I said softly.
“They weren’t just sleeping together, Ellie,” James explained. “He’s never stopped loving her.”
A sickness formed in the pit of my stomach at the thought of everything my father deprived himself of over the years just to maintain his position in the Senate, just to keep Merriweather and Marjorie happy. They’d turned us into puppets, threatening to destroy us if we didn’t jump, twirl, and dance when they demanded. It was easy to be on the outside and say you’d never allow yourself to become so manipulated. They’d perfected the art of forcing people to bend to their will. My father and I were no different than any of their other victims, including Cynthia.
“So we confronted Bradley about everything,” Dante jumped in. “He said he didn’t have a choice. After I’d asked him to see if he could find out what happened to Lilly, someone must have realized what he was looking into and blackmailed him, threatening his daughter’s life. At first, he didn’t take them seriously. But when he received word that his daughter’s school was on lockdown because of a potential shooter, he knew it wasn’t just an idle threat. Among other things, he was forced to scare Cynthia, to make me think Francis was involved, to bug your car.”
“So we gave him a choice,” James explained. “Either be our mole or we go to the authorities. Thankfully, he agreed to help. We needed him. Not only was his access to inside information invaluable, he’d worked for the LAPD for twenty years. He’d gone deep undercover before. This was second nature to him. He knew how to play the game and figure out who was pulling the strings. Sure, we were suspicious this was all Merriweather’s doing, but we had no way of proving it. We knew what he was capable of, how cunning and smart he was, so we needed to be just as cunning and smart. As much as we wanted to alert the authorities to what we knew, we had no way of knowing who Merriweather had dirt on, who he had in his back pocket, whose lives were at risk. We simply had to be patient and hope he’d eventually reveal his hand.”
“That’s a bit of a gamble, don’t you think?” I pressed.
James shrugged. “It was. And we thought it was all about to go pear-shaped when Bradley called and said he’d been ordered to grab you, then deliver you to a remote location by the California-Mexico border. At that point, he was ready to walk away, to take his daughter and disappear. But I reminded him that if he didn’t do this, someone else would. That this was his way of ensuring your safety. I put out calls to my contacts at the FBI and DEA, explained a little bit of the situation, and said we’d need teams on standby.”
“Steven?” I lifted a brow.
James nodded. “He’d been looking into Brock. I guess as retribution for what he did to you in Italy.”
I swallowed hard at the reminder, still able to feel the ghost of his body smothering me, the pain of his elbow cutting off my oxygen. I should have been happy karma had finally paid him back for all his actions, but I wasn’t. Brock had done some horrible things, but did he deserve to die the way he did?
“He came to me asking questions about a few conversations Brock’s secretary had overheard about drug contamination. It seemed like too much of a coincidence so our threesome became a foursome. When I told him what Bradley was about to do, he didn’t like my plan, didn’t like the idea of him abducting you, but he knew there was no other way. This wouldn’t end until we had enough information to put whoever was behind this in prison for the rest of their lives. Of course, he made Bradley send time-stamped photos every hour on the hour and threatened that if he missed even one check-in, all hell would rain down.”
I smirked. “That sounds like Steven.”
“When I finally returned to an area with cell service and heard what had happened, you can’t imagine how scared I was.” Dante squeezed my hand, the fear he must have felt at that moment filling his expression. “It felt like the world opened up beneath me and I was falling without a net. I worried something like this might happen, but James assured me he’d be watching out for you while I was gone.”
“But when Bradley showed up with you and Miguel informed him that you had information his ‘boss’ needed, he knew things were about to get a lot worse,” James interjected. “Particularly based on Miguel’s reputation.”
“I couldn’t let you go through any of that.” Dante swallowed hard. “So I told Bradley to try to convince Miguel to deviate from his plan just slightly.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, although I grew sick at the words I knew were about to fall from his mouth.
“Bradley said if you refused to disclose Cynthia’s location, Miguel had ways of making you disclose it. Then he told me who Miguel really was… El carnicero de Tijuana. I couldn’t let him hurt you, not when this was my mess to begin with. So I told Bradley to try to sell them on a different idea, a better idea. He’d tell them I was about to land at LAX after hearing about my missing girlfriend. He’d offer to come pick me up, then slip something into my water bottle to ensure I was unconscious. He’d bring me to the slaughterhouse and tell the cartel that he knew the dynamic between you and myself very well from being our driver for months, that you were a noble and proud woman who would take the secret of Cynthia’s location to the grave, regardless of the pain you had to endure. But you wouldn’t be able to stomach the idea of a loved one suffering.”
“You didn’t…” I shook my head, tears welling behind my eyes at the thought that Dante willingly put himself through everything just to protect me. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“We needed you to believe it was all real,” James said. “None of this would end until we had all the information. The election happened. Francis won. He gave a heartwarming victory speech against the backdrop of his missing daughter.” His lips formed a tight line, his nostrils flaring. “It makes my stomach churn to think that he stood in front of the cameras and begged the nation to come forward with any information they may have about your whereabouts when the person responsible was standing by his side, offering him comfort. There were so many times I wanted to pick up the phone and tell him what I knew, but I didn’t because Bradley still couldn’t confirm whether Merriweather was behind all of it. I certainly had my doubts that he would be involved in something like this. If Francis went to prison, Merriweather would lose everything he’d worked for. Then I remembered something Francis said during his last campaign. He’d been asked if he ever planned on making a run for the White House. He adamantly refused to even consider it, said his mission was to serve the people of California. He liked his position in the Senate and had no intention of changing that. It must have pissed off Merriweather so much he conspired with Marjorie to…” He trailed off, his shoulders falling as he met Dante’s eyes. “Part of me wonders if I’d told Francis, maybe you wouldn’t have—”
“You can’t think that way,” Dante interrupted, the compassion and sympathy he had for what James was going through heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.
James took a deep breath, pausing to settle his emotions, then looked back at me. “Finally, after you’d been missing for a week and Dante had been there for twenty-four hours, I got the phone call I’d been waiting for. I can’t even tell you how surprised I was to learn Marjorie was the one behind everything, that she’d been working with Merriweather on this for the past six years. But once we had her confession, we were free to move in.”
“You listened to the confession?” I lifted a brow.
“Every word. Bradley began recording the instant Brock brought you into the dining room.” He briefly closed his eyes, biting his lips.
“I’m sorry,” I offered, grabbing James’ hand in mine and squeezing.
His eyes lifted to mine. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I need to bear the brunt of the responsibility for this. I was brought up to believe that having power gave you choices. Unfortunately, I passed that knowledge on to Brock and it ended up killing him.”
“It’s never too late to make things right,” I said.
“It’s not. And that’s why I’m here now. To make things right.” He looked toward his son.
“It’s going to take some time,” Dante admitted. “But I’m more than willing to try.”
James gave him a small smile. “That’s all I can ask.”
I looked between the two men, a warmth filling me when Dante stretched his hand toward James. Relief washed over him as he took it in his, shaking.
“Thank you,” Dante said, smiling. “For saving my life. And Eleanor’s.”
“I didn’t do anything. You saved her life. As did Bradley, just like he swore he would.”
A brief moment passed as the men kept their hands connected, both offering their thanks without saying a single world. Then James cleared his throat, taking a step back.
“Well, I’ll let you two have some privacy.” He smiled at Dante, then looked at me. “Spend some time with him, but I’d like to talk to you when you have a free minute.”
I nodded. “I’ll come find you once he falls asleep.”
“Of course. I’ll be with your father.” He paused, his eyes floating over both of us. Then he retreated toward the door.
“Wait. James?” I called out just as he was about to walk out.
“Yes?” He stopped, lifting a brow.
“What about all the drugs? The flu vaccine?”
“Every single drug that has been contaminated since this began has been pulled off the market until we can verify it’s safe. We’ve also tracked down all the people Marjorie and Brock blackmailed. Brock kept meticulous files on every single one of them. They’re all cooperating.”
I blew out a long breath, a weight lifting off me.
“No one else will die because of Marjorie’s jealousy and greed.” James gave me a reassuring look. “Or Brock’s.”
“That’s a relief.”
He pinched his lips together, a sort of melancholy washing over his expression. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, being forced to come to terms with the truth that his son wasn’t the man he thought him to be. Then he relaxed his posture. “I’ll leave you two.” He turned, closing the door behind him.
The instant we were alone, Dante’s gaze met mine. “Lay down with me?” He lifted a brow, hesitant, as if waiting for me to storm out of the room now that I knew the truth.
I should have been livid that he’d kept such an important piece of information from me, but could I really fault him when I’d kept so much from him, too? After we reconnected, weeks had passed before I even mentioned I’d been looking into my father. I’d refused to share everything I knew about Cynthia, about her true identity and the pregnancy. Why didn’t I tell him? Maybe because I thought by keeping him in the dark I could keep him safe from enduring any more pain. Didn’t he do the same thing?
A slight smile building on my lips, I slowly rose from the chair and squeezed in beside him. I felt all the tension leave his body as he gingerly wrapped his arm around me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” The vibration of his voice filled me with comfort. I nuzzled into his chest, relishing in his warmth. “I wanted to. I wanted to tell you the second I found out.”
“I get it. I know why you didn’t.”
“I couldn’t stomach the idea of anything happening to you, so I begged you to walk away after you told me what you’d been looking into. I was so worried you’d find out on your own and I wouldn’t be able to protect you from that.”
“I did walk away…for a little while. Blake had been so busy with other cases at the firm that he hadn’t come to me with any new information. It wasn’t until Friday…” I trailed off as I ran a light finger over Dante’s chest. “I was with Mila when I finally put the pieces together and realized my father had an affair with Cynthia all those years ago. So I hurried back to the law firm to talk to Blake and I found his notes that Marjorie couldn’t be my mother.”
“How did he figure it out?” Dante asked.
“Our blood types. Marjorie had type O. My father’s type A. I’m type AB.”
I felt him nod. “There was no way Marjorie could have been your mother.”
“She fooled all of us,” I murmured, silence filling the room once more. I kept my head glued to Dante’s chest, grateful for each drum of his heartbeat. “Do you know what’s going to happen to Bradley?” I asked after a while.
“When he agreed to help us, James promised to work out a deal with the FBI on his behalf. He’ll do a little time in a minimum-security prison.”
“That’s good.” I remained motionless for a moment, then my eyebrows furrowed and I shot up. “Wait a minute.”
Dante groaned, briefly closing his eyes, my sudden movement causing him pain.
“Oops. Sorry,” I cringed.
“It’s okay,” he assured me. “Just took me by surprise. What is it?”
“If you knew Bradley was on your side, that help was on the way, why did you tell me to shoot you?”
“I didn’t know help was on the way. I hoped it was, but once I was locked up and Miguel and his guys took over, Bradley made sure not to interact with me. We’d come so far. The last thing any of us wanted to do was raise their suspicions. I’d been through so much already — hours of kicks to the stomach and punches to the face, just so I’d already look like I was on death’s door when you finally saw me again.
“I was so out of it when Bradley brought you into that slaughterhouse, I thought I had died, that you were an angel. Then when they came back and Miguel started slicing me open…” He shook his head, grimacing at the reminder of what he’d endured. “I thought I was going to die from the sheer agony of it. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, Eleanor. It felt like someone had cut me open and set my insides ablaze while my heart was still beating. Even that sounds better than what I went through. I tried.”
He closed his eyes, his lip quivering from the memory. “I tried to hang on, but I couldn’t. It was too much. That’s when I pleaded with you to put me out of my misery. Without knowing if help was on the way, I broke down. I hated leaving you, but I knew Bradley would make sure nothing would happen to you. When this all began, he swore he would. And it’s been his ability and influence that allowed him to fulfill that promise.”
“Why did you do it?” I choked out. “Why did you almost die for me?”
“Because, Eleanor.” He swiped at the few tears falling down my cheeks. “Because I love you. The thought of you suffering, even for a second, gutted me. And I would gladly take another beating, another knife to the stomach, to the heart, to the liver to save you from enduring any pain. I wouldn’t even hesitate.” He reached his free arm across his body, pulling me back against him.
“I almost shot you, Dante.” I blinked back my tears, my chest squeezing as I thought how different today could have been, how I could have been standing at his grave instead of snuggling against his warm body. “If the FBI had come in one second later…”
“But they didn’t.” He cupped my cheek. “Like I said the other night, this was all in the cards. This was the path we had to take.” He brought his lips close, sparks shooting through me when they brushed against mine for the first time in days.
“I hope the rest of our path is filled with unicorns and rainbows.”
“Me, too.” He chuckled slightly, then winced. “But if it’s not, we’ll get through it, just like we got through all of this.” He grabbed my left hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “Together.” He placed a delicate kiss on the vacant ring finger. His eyes filled with promise before they closed and he slowly drifted off to sleep.
I listened to his breathing even out, then slowly peeled my body from his, doing my best not to disturb him as I made my way across his room. Just as I was about to close the door behind me, I took one last look at him.
“If you ask me, I’ll say yes, Dante,” I whispered.
His lips curved into a flirtatious smile.
“I know,” he murmured groggily.