Page 12 of Code Name: Dante

“I didn’t tell you the whole story earlier,” she said, her voice thin with exhaustion.

I sat on the edge of her bed, noting how fragile she seemed in the dim light from the hall. “What do you mean?”

“Your grandfather wanted more for your mother than this town could offer. A real future, not just scraping by.” Her eyes grew distant. “But she was always drawn to the wrong crowd. The flashy cars, the easy money.”

My breath caught. “Like the man she left with?”

Gram nodded, but her eyes were hooded. The same thing happened every time the subject of my mom leaving came up. Something told me there was a lot more to the story that I’d probably never learn.

“Promise me something,” Gram said, squeezing my hand. “Promise me you won’t go looking for trouble like she did.”

“I won’t. I promise.” As I kissed her good night and returned to my room, I couldn’t help wondering if the past was already repeating itself. Had she put her trust in a man she shouldn’t? Was I doing the same thing?

5

DANTE

The early morning videoconference with Admiral and Grit cast blue light across my spartan motel room. The sun had just risen over Gloversville, and my third cup of coffee sat cooling on the nightstand, untouched. Through the laptop screen, I could see them in the boathouse at Canada Lake.

“Walk us through your concerns,” Admiral said, adjusting his camera to show a detailed map of the property. Behind him, the lake stretched, calm and pristine, through the windows, a deceptive serenity that only heightened my unease.

“With Vincent in jail and the family’s operations being dismantled, I thought the immediate danger was contained,” I said, running a hand through my hair. The admission tasted bitter. “That was naive.”

“You couldn’t have anticipated every threat,” Admiral said, but I knew better.

“I should have. These people don’t just disappear because their leader’s locked up. More, rival families have been waiting for the day the Castellano organization was taken down. They’ll be vying for every inch of territory they can get their hands on.”

I stood and paced the length of the motel room, its dated carpet doing little to muffle my footsteps. The familiar sound reminded me of the endless nights spent planning operations and gathering intelligence. “Some have been in this life for generations. They don’t know anything else. The criminal mindset is embedded in their DNA.”

Grit moved into frame, leaning against one of the boathouse’s support beams. “I’m staying put here, at the camp, for the time being. You should also know that K19 Sentinel Cyber is setting up a command center in the boathouse again. We’ll have round-the-clock surveillance, thermal imaging, motion sensors, access to overheads—the works.” He paused, studying me through the screen. “Tell me what else you’re thinking, Dante.”

I stopped pacing, bracing my hands on the motel room’s desk. “My family destroyed lives all over the place, but here in Gloversville, it was like they did in the entire town. Burned down businesses, broke people who tried to stand up to them. I won’t let that happen again. Not to Lark and not to her grandmother.”

“Just so you’re aware, Doc and Merrigan are on board,” Admiral added. “Everyone agrees—we can’t let another version of the organization rise from the ashes. The DOJ’s providing full backing to prevent exactly that. Whatever resources we need, we’ve got them.” He glanced up at his camera. “But that’s not what’s really eating at you, is it?”

I studied the world outside the motel window, remembering countless family “business meetings” held on similar properties. How many times had my father and brother used isolation as a weapon—sometimes even with me? “We need to make sure Mrs. Gregory is comfortable. She’s already lost so much to my family’s machinations.”

Both men knew my history, knew the price I’d paid to bring down those closest to me.

“You care about them,” Grit said quietly. “Both of them.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. “I’ll be in touch. We should be there in a couple of hours.”

Before Lark’s call about the vandalism last night, I’d thought about making the drive back to Manhattan. I’d also thought about heading up to Canada Lake. After she made contact, I was glad I hadn’t done either. I’d holed up in an all-night restaurant, then booked a room at the adjacent Gloversville Motor Lodge, coordinating security teams to watch both the shop and her house through the night. The footage showed exactly what Lark feared—someone had marked their territory, sending a message. “We know what happened that night, and you will pay.” What did it mean? Something in my gut told me Lark didn’t know any more than I did.

Now, the motel room felt claustrophobic, its dated décor and musty smell a far cry from the luxury I’d grown up with. But it offered a clear view of Main Street, where the empty storefronts stood as silent testimony to the destruction I’d just talked about. Each vacant window, each faded sign, felt like an accusation.

My phone buzzed with updates from our surveillance teams. Another report from Tank, who was meeting me here before we headed to the Gregory house. Everything was proceeding according to plan, but it didn’t ease the knot in my gut. Getting them to Canada Lake would help keep them safe, but that I couldn’t be there with Lark once the trial got underway ate away at me.

I also couldn’t be here, where I feared the threat was more against me than her. The people who wanted me dead figured she was the easiest way to get to me. If they took her, I’d offer myself in trade. Or I got her to safety, then let the showdown begin. However, my time wasn’t my own. It wouldn’t be until the verdict came in and Vincent Castellano Jr. was sentenced to life without parole. If he lived that long. There were plenty of people locked up where he’d be headed who’d want him dead too. That I didn’t care was evidence of the wedge that grew between Vincent and me. Of how much I hated everything he stood for.

I’d given him one chance, not that he’d known what it was. Had he told me where my mother was being held, if she was still alive, I probably would’ve continued my life of crime, answering when he called, executing his demands of me that were delivered no differently than they were to anyone else who worked for him. He’d made it clear to everyone that I wasn’t special. Blood didn’t matter as much as loyalty and, above all else, carrying out his orders.

Had he had a reason, he would’ve killed me or had me killed in the same way so many others who’d let him down had been.

Was the suspicious vehicle circling both the Gregory house and shop a warning not to testify? If so, it was much too late for that, not that Vincent knew it. The DOJ had all the proof they needed to convict him on every count he’d been charged with. Even if he succeeded in having me killed, it wouldn’t change his future.

On the other hand, the Castellano organization was like a hydra—cut off one head, and two more could emerge if you weren’t vigilant. What I hadn’t been prepared for was how quickly it would happen. I’d believed we’d have time to dismantle the existing framework enough and make sweeping arrests, that there’d be nothing left when the don apparent rose from the ashes. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

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