Chapter 2 The Man My Father Trusted

POV: Annabelle

​"Give that key back to me right now," I said, glaring up at him while the rain kept falling around us, but Dante just slipped it into his coat pocket without taking his eyes off my face.

​"You really think you can just demand things from me, Annabelle?" Dante asked, stepping even closer until my chest was almost touching his, his dark eyes fixed on mine with an intense look that made my throat feel dry.

​"I can demand whatever I want when it comes to my father's belongings," I told him, trying to push him away again, but he caught my wrist mid-air, holding my hand firmly against his chest so I could feel the steady beat of his heart through his coat. "You followed me here like a stalker, and for all I know, you sent that text message just to lure me out to the chapel so you could rob me."

​"If I wanted to lure you somewhere, sweetheart, you wouldn't have made it out of that building on your own two feet," Dante said, his voice dropping low while his fingers tightened slightly around my wrist, sending an unwanted heat through my skin. "I came here because my men saw you sneaking out of your dorm alone at midnight, and I wasn't going to let you get yourself killed over something you don't understand."

​"Why are your men watching my dorm in the first place?" I asked, pulling against his grip, but he held me easily, forcing me to stay right where I was in front of him. "Are you connected to my father's murder, or are you just trying to steal whatever evidence he left behind?"

​"My family didn't kill your father," Dante said, leaning down slightly so his breath brushed against my cheek, making my pulse race even faster despite my anger. "In fact, your father came to my family three weeks before he died, and he was practically begging us for protection."

​"You're lying," I snapped, shaking my head because my father was a legitimate businessman who hated criminals, so the idea of him asking a mafia family for help didn't make any sense. "My father was an honest man, so why would he ever reach out to people like you?"

​"He reached out because he found out someone inside his own company was laundering money through a network connected to this university," Dante replied, his thumb stroking the side of my wrist in a deliberate gesture that made me shiver. "He knew his partners were turning on him, and he knew going to the police would get him put in a box, so he asked my family to step in and handle it."

​"If he asked for your help, then why didn't you keep him safe?" I asked, staring straight into his eyes while my voice cracked with emotion. "Why did he die alone on the side of the road if the great Moretti family was supposed to be protecting him?"

​"Because he stopped answering our calls two days before the crash, Annabelle," Dante said, his expression hardening as he pulled me a fraction of an inch closer, his gaze dropping to my mouth before snapping back to my eyes. "He got paranoid, he hid the key, and he tried to play hero instead of letting me handle it, which was the dumbest mistake he ever made."

​"So tell me what the key opens right now," I demanded, leaning into his space instead of backing away, refusing to let his intimidating posture break my focus. "If you are really trying to help me like you claim, then prove it."

​"I don't have to prove anything to you," Dante said, a cold smirk touching his lips as he looked down at me with pure arrogance. "You have two choices right now, Annabelle, so listen carefully to me. You can give me the photograph you found, get into my car, and let me handle this whole thing, or you can keep playing detective by yourself and end up buried next to your father."

​"I am not giving you the photo, and I am definitely not getting into a car with you," I said, pulling my arm back with everything I had until he finally let go of my wrist, leaving my skin feeling strangely cold where his hand had been. "I don't trust you, Dante, and I don't need a ruthless mobster telling me what to do."

​"You're wrong if you think I'm giving you a choice in the long run," Dante said, taking a slow step toward me that forced me back against the side of his SUV, effectively cornering me between his large frame and the metal door. "I shouldn't give a damn what happens to a stubborn girl who refuses to listen, but your father put your safety on my hands, and I refuse to let anyone touch what belongs under my protection."

​"I don't belong to you or your protection," I spat back, looking him straight in the eyes despite how overwhelming his physical presence was up close.

​"We'll see about that," Dante whispered, stepping back just enough to let me move, watching me with a dangerous look as I turned on my heel and walked away into the dark.

​I kept moving fast without looking back, my heart pounding against my ribs as I rushed through the rain until I finally reached my dorm building on the main campus street. I unlocked the front entrance, hurried up the stairs to the third floor, and used my key to open my room, but as soon as I pushed the door open and flipped the wall switch, my stomach dropped completely.

​The place was a total disaster, with every single drawer pulled out and emptied, my clothes thrown all over the bed, my books scattered across the rug, and my desk drawers dumped onto the floor.

​"No, no, no," I muttered, stepping inside and locking the door behind me while I started checking my things with shaking hands.

​My laptop was still sitting right on top of the desk, my expensive watch was untouched, and my emergency cash was still resting in the top closet shelf, which meant whoever broke in wasn't looking for money or electronics. I reached into my jacket pocket to grab the photograph from the chapel, but my heart stopped when I remembered that I had set the photo right on my desk for a second before leaving the room earlier to go down to the chapel.

​I rushed over to the fallen papers on the floor, flipping through them as fast as I could, but the photograph of my father standing next to the young man was completely gone.

​My hands trembled violently as I grabbed my phone from my pocket and dialed nine-one-one, lifting the phone to my ear while I waited for an operator to answer, but before the call could even ring, the lights in my room suddenly cut out, plunging the entire room into total darkness.

​"Hello?" I called out, stepping back toward the locked door while my phone screen lit up with a new text message.

​I looked down at the bright screen, reading the text from the same unknown sender: Your father couldn't protect you, and Dante won't protect you either.

​A quiet floorboard creaked directly behind me near the open closet, and before I could even turn my head or scream for help, a thick, heavy hand reached out from the dark and came down hard over my mouth, pinning my head back against a broad chest while an arm wrapped tightly around my waist to keep me from moving.