CHAPTER 2 The telephone felt heavier than it should have.
Ava’s hand shook so badly the receiver knocked against the cradle twice before she managed to lift it. Her hair had fallen across her face. The orange strap of her dress hung loose from one shoulder. Blood from the torn skin near her wrist had stained the bandage, but she forced her fingers to turn the rotary dial.
Preston laughed behind her.
“Who are you calling, Ava? The police? Go ahead. Tell them you’re a thief who tripped in a library.”
Victoria folded her arms. “No one is coming for you.”
Ava did not answer.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
For a terrible second, Ava thought the number was dead. A relic. A cruel last joke from a father who had left her with riddles instead of protection.
Then a man answered.
“Valenti.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Ava closed her eyes. “Sir…” Her voice cracked. “Can you come pick me up?”
Silence filled the receiver.
Then Dante Valenti asked, very calmly, “Where are you?”
Ava swallowed. “Caldwell estate. West library.”
“Are you alone?”
She looked up at the family surrounding her. Preston’s smile widened. Victoria rolled her eyes. Conrad looked suddenly less certain.
“No,” Ava whispered. “They found the papers.”
The calm on the other end changed into something colder than anger.
“Stay on the line.”
Preston stepped forward. “Give me that phone.”
Ava tightened her grip.
Preston grabbed the cord and yanked. The telephone slid across the table but did not fall. Ava clung to the receiver with both hands.
From the speaker, Dante’s voice cut through the room.
“Touch her again, and your last name will not protect you.”
Preston froze.
Then he laughed.
He took the receiver from Ava and held it to his ear. “Listen, whoever you are, this is a private family matter.”
Dante replied, “Not anymore.”
Preston’s smile faded slightly. “Do you know who my family is?”
A pause.
“Yes,” Dante said. “That is why I am on my way.”
The line went dead.
For three seconds, no one moved.
Then Elise began to laugh nervously. “Was that supposed to scare us?”
Victoria recovered first. “Ava has always been dramatic. Some imaginary boyfriend with a deep voice is not going to change anything.”
Conrad looked toward the broken glass doors at the far side of the library. “What name did she say?”
Preston tossed the receiver onto the floor. “Valenti.”
Conrad went still.
Victoria turned. “What?”
Conrad’s face had lost color. “Dante Valenti?”
Preston frowned. “You know him?”
Conrad did not answer.
Everyone in the old money circles of the East Coast knew stories about Dante Valenti, though most were careful never to repeat them loudly. Some called him a billionaire investor. Some called him a fixer. Some whispered that before he owned hotels, shipping companies, and private security firms, he owned favors from men who never appeared in court.
Ava knew only what her father had written in the note.
He owed me his life. Now he owes you yours.
Outside, tires cut across the wet gravel driveway.
Not one car.
Several.
Headlights swept through the broken doors and spilled across the library floor. The guests in the hallway turned toward the sound. Security guards who had been brave enough to chase Ava suddenly stepped backward.
Victoria’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
Black SUVs stopped outside the library terrace. Men in dark coats stepped into the rain. They did not run. They moved with the quiet certainty of people who had never needed to rush.
Then Dante Valenti entered through the shattered doorway.
He was older than Ava expected, silver at the temples, broad-shouldered in a black tuxedo, his expression controlled and unreadable. Rain clung to his coat. Behind him, two attorneys carried leather cases. A woman in a gray suit followed with a tablet and a badge clipped inside her jacket.
Dante’s eyes found Ava on the floor.
For the first time that night, Ava cried.
Not loudly. Just one tear sliding down the side of her face because someone had finally walked into the room and looked at her as if she mattered.
Dante crossed the library and crouched beside her. He removed his coat and placed it over her shoulders without asking.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
Ava nodded, though she was not sure.
He helped her up carefully. His hand was steady. Protective, not possessive.
Preston scoffed. “This is ridiculous. She’s putting on an act.”
Dante looked at him.
Preston stepped back before he could stop himself.
Victoria lifted her chin. “Mr. Valenti, I don’t know what Ava told you, but she is unstable. She stole from this family, forged documents, and attacked my son.”
The woman in the gray suit tapped her tablet. “That will be difficult to prove, Mrs. Caldwell, considering the estate security system recorded the library, the hallway, and the greenhouse today.”
Victoria’s face tightened.
Conrad whispered, “Security system?”
Dante did not look away from Ava. “Your father asked me to install it after he suspected someone inside this house was altering his medical records.”
The room went dead quiet.
Ava turned slowly. “My father knew?”
“He knew enough to be afraid,” Dante said. “And he trusted the wrong people for too long.”
Conrad tried to move toward the door.
Two men in dark coats shifted into his path.
The attorneys opened their cases. One placed a stack of certified documents on the library table.
Dante finally faced the Caldwell family.
“Six years ago, Richard Merrick transferred controlling ownership of this property, the Caldwell investment group, and the family trust to his daughter, Ava Merrick. The amendment was recorded privately, witnessed legally, and placed under my protection. The only reason it was not activated sooner was because Ava was still grieving, and Richard believed the family would take care of her.”
Victoria whispered, “That can’t be legal.”
“It is,” the attorney said.
Preston looked at Ava as if seeing her for the first time. “You own this house?”
Ava did not answer.
May you like
Dante did.
“She owns everything you used to humiliate her.”
