Chapter 4 - Dawn on the Mountain
By 4:00 AM, the storm outside had cleared, leaving the pine trees dusted with a pristine layer of early October frost.
I sat in Dante’s private library on the second floor of the lodge. The heavy oak shelves were lined with leather-bound volumes, and a tray of black coffee and fresh pastries sat on the low table before me.
Marco walked into the room, placing a thick manila folder on the desk beside Dante.
"The audit is complete, boss," Marco reported, his face expressionless. "Ray’s entire operational network in Troy has been dismantled. The local commissioners have already distanced themselves. As for the diner's debt—the promissory notes have been voided and stamped by our legal team. It's clean."
Dante nodded dismissal. Marco exited silently, leaving us alone in the quiet dawn light.
Dante slid the manila folder across the mahogany table toward me. I opened it cautiously. Inside was a clear, unencumbered deed to the Halsted Street diner, signed, notarized, and entirely free of debt, along with a certified bank draft covering three years of back-pay and medical expenses.
"You don't owe anyone anything anymore, Clara," Dante said softly, walking over to stand beside my chair.
I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes for the first time all night. "I don't even know how to begin to thank you. I have nothing to offer in return—I can't pay for this."
"I didn't ask for payment," Dante replied, his dark eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my heart skip. "I asked you a question earlier. And you never answered it properly."
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"Which question?"
"Who put those bruises on your arm." Dante crouched down beside my chair, gently taking my right wrist in his large, warm hand. His thumb traced the fading purple marks with infinite gentleness—a stark contrast to the terrifying power he wielded over the city. "Now that he's gone, I want to make sure you never have to look over your shoulder again."
