Page 83 of Blood Vows

Luca looked at her. “There’s a file.”

She hated that everyone seemed to hesitate before speaking to her now. “Open it.”

“Elena—” Luca started.

“Open the damn file,” she shouted at him. Luca did, and a photograph slid out first. Elena stopped breathing when she realized that it was of her father, taken from a distance. He was walking toward the warehouse in the same coat, with the same silver buttons. Her vision blurred.

“That’s him,” she whispered. Dante didn’t move. Isabella took Elena’s hand, and Luca pulled out another sheet.

“The target was listed as Anthony Ross,” he said.

Elena frowned through the pain. “That isn’t his name.”

“No.” Dante stepped closer. “Was it an alias?”

“Looks like it,” Luca said.

“Who submitted the intel?” she asked.

Luca turned the page, and his expression hardened. “Anonymous source through Hale.”

Elena laughed bitterly. “Of course.”

Dante’s voice went cold. “What was the accusation?”

Luca read. “Selling Camorra shipping routes to federal investigators.”

Elena shook her head. “My father hated the feds.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Luca said.

She glared at him. “I know.”

He softened slightly. “I’m not accusing him of anything, Elena.”

Dante moved closer to the desk. “Where’s the after-action report?” Luca found it and read it silently, and then looked at Dante.

Dante’s face changed. “What?” Luca handed it over, and Dante read. Elena watched every flicker in his expression.

“What does it say?” she asked. He didn’t answer. “Dante.”

He looked at her. “I shot him.” The words destroyed whatever was left of her hope. Elena couldn’t breathe. Isabella’s grip tightened around her hand. Dante continued. “One round to the chest.” Her father had died alone on a warehouse floor because of a lie.

Her eyes filled. “Did he say anything?”

Dante looked down at the report. “Yes.”

“What?” she asked.

His voice came out rough. “He said, ‘Tell Elena I’m sorry.’” Something inside her broke. The sound that came out of her throat didn’t even sound human. Isabella pulled her close. Elena folded into her cousin, crying in a way she hadn’t cried when her father died because back then she’d been too busy trying to understand why he was gone. Now she knew. It was because of a lie that Hale had told the Camorras, and Luca sent Dante to kill her father.

She cried for the father she lost, for the secrets he kept, for the years she had spent wondering, and for the man standing across the room who looked like he wanted to tear his own heart out. When the tears finally slowed, she pulled away from Isabella.

Dante hadn’t moved. “Did you know who I was when you came to my apartment?”

“No,” he breathed.

“Did you know my father’s name?” she asked.