Chapter 5 - THE FATHER WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
Dante’s father died in Sicily.
That was the family story.
Heart attack.
Closed coffin.
Private burial.
Dante attended.
So did Marco.
Now the ledger suggested Pietro Varga continued receiving payments afterward.
Khloe asked the obvious question.
“Could someone have used his name?”
“Yes.”
“More likely than a fake funeral.”
“Yes.”
Dante said it too quickly.
He did not like the alternative.
Then Paulie said:
“Boss.”
“What?”
“There was never a body identification.”
Dante looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Your uncle handled everything.”
Another name.
Salvatore Varga.
Dante’s father’s younger brother.
Retired now.
Living outside Tacoma.
Khloe looked between them.
“You have a suspicious uncle?”
Dante glared.
“I have many suspicious relatives.”
“Comforting family culture.”
Then the technician traced P. VARGA payments.
The receiving account existed under a Panamanian company.
Owner hidden.
But one transfer memo read:
S. VARGA ADVISORY.
Salvatore.
Dante’s uncle.
He called immediately.
No answer.
Second time.
Nothing.
Third.
Phone off.
Paulie stood despite stitches.
Dante stopped him.
“You’re staying.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re leaking.”
Paulie looked offended.
Khloe almost smiled.
Then Dante turned to her.
“You’re coming with me.”
“No.”
He paused.
She continued:
“You said I choose.”
His jaw tightened.
Correct.
“Then stay here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then?”
Khloe thought.
Every option was bad.
Finally:
“I’ll come.”
Dante looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because apparently every time I stay somewhere, armed men appear.”
“Reasonable.”
They drove to Salvatore’s house.
No convoy.
Two cars.
Rain had stopped.
The house looked ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Lights on.
Door unlocked.
Inside:
Dinner still warm.
Television running.
No Salvatore.
Dante searched the study.
Khloe stayed near the hallway.
Then she noticed a framed photograph.
Young Dante.
Marco.
Their father Pietro.
Salvatore.
And behind them—
Elias.
Again.
Everyone connected.
Then a floorboard creaked upstairs.
Paulie reached for his weapon.
Dante raised one hand.
Silence.
They climbed.
Guest room empty.
Bathroom.
Closet.
Then Khloe heard breathing.
Behind the wardrobe.
A hidden panel.
Dante opened it.
Inside crouched an old man holding a pistol.
White hair.
Scarred cheek.
Khloe had never seen him.
Dante had.
His face emptied.
The pistol lowered.
The old man whispered:
“Dante.”
Paulie swore.
Khloe understood before anyone explained.
Pietro Varga.
Dante’s father.
Alive.
Dante stared at him.
“You died.”
Pietro laughed weakly.
“Apparently not well enough.”
Then a gunshot shattered the window.
Everyone dropped.
Pietro hit the floor.
Blood bloomed across his shoulder.
Dante dragged him behind the wall.
Paulie fired toward the trees.
Khloe stayed flat.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Whoever had tracked them to Salvatore’s house had not come for Dante.
They had come to finish Pietro.
May you like
And the man who had supposedly been dead for nine years whispered one sentence before passing out.
“Marco found me.”
