04

The air in Dante’s office was stifling, thick with unspoken words and tension. His cryptic statement, “I’m protecting you,” echoed in my mind, unsettling me more than I cared to admit. Protecting me from what? Or who?

“Care to elaborate?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound steadier than I felt.

Dante leaned back in his chair, his piercing gray eyes still fixed on me. “There are things about this case—and about your family—that you don’t know.”

My breath caught in my throat. “My family?”

He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “Yes. You think you have all the answers, Olivia. You don’t.”

“Stop being so cryptic, Dante,” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

He tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You think you’re ready for the truth? Because once you hear it, there’s no going back.”

“I don’t need your games,” I shot back, standing abruptly. “I’m here to do a job, not to play along with whatever twisted mind game you’ve concocted this time.”

Dante stood too, his towering figure imposing as he stepped closer. “This isn’t a game, Olivia. This is your life—your father’s life. And if you think I’m the villain, you’ve been looking at the wrong person all along.”

His words struck a nerve. My heart pounded as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. Was he implying that my father… No, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, taking a step back.

“You don’t have to believe me,” he replied, his tone colder now. “But you’ll see soon enough.”

The room fell silent as we stared at each other, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. Finally, Dante sighed and turned away, walking toward the window that overlooked the city skyline.

“Go home, Olivia,” he said, his back to me. “Take the night to think about what I’ve said.”

For a moment, I stood frozen, torn between demanding more answers and leaving before he could unravel me further. In the end, I chose the latter.

The drive home was a blur, my thoughts spinning like a whirlwind. Dante’s words replayed in my mind, each one sharper than the last.

You think I’m the villain… You’ve been looking at the wrong person.

Was it possible that my father had lied to me? That the story I’d clung to for years—the story of Dante destroying us—wasn’t the whole truth?

When I finally reached my apartment, I found myself pacing the small living room, unable to shake the unease that had settled deep in my chest.

I couldn’t call my father. Not after our argument last night. And even if I could, what would I say? Hey, Dad, by the way, Dante thinks you’re the real villain. Care to explain?

No. I had to handle this on my own.

The next morning, I arrived at work determined to confront Dante, but the moment I stepped into the office, I knew something was wrong.

The air was charged, heavy with an energy I couldn’t place. The staff, usually composed and professional, seemed on edge, whispering in hushed tones as I passed.

“Olivia.”

I turned to see Dante’s assistant, Maria, approaching me with a grim expression.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my stomach twisting.

“Dante’s waiting for you in his private office,” she said, her voice low. “You should go now.”

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. Without another word, I headed to Dante’s office, my heels clicking against the marble floor.

When I opened the door, I found him standing behind his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. He looked up as I entered, his expression hardening.

“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone before hanging up abruptly.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice firm despite the unease bubbling in my chest.

Dante didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gestured to a chair. “Sit.”

“I don’t need to sit,” I said, crossing my arms. “Just tell me what’s happening.”

He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There’s been a development in the case. A file was leaked to the press this morning—one that implicates your father.”

The room seemed to tilt, and I gripped the back of the chair for support. “What are you talking about?”

Dante stepped around the desk, his expression grim. “The file contains details of financial transactions—your father’s transactions—that tie him to the same corruption network we’re investigating.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s impossible. My father would never—”

“Olivia,” Dante interrupted, his voice softer now. “I told you there’s more to this than you know. This file… it’s damning.”

I sank into the chair, my mind racing. “It has to be fake. Someone must be trying to frame him.”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” Dante said, sitting across from me. “But you need to prepare yourself. If this is real, it changes everything.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. For years, I’d blamed Dante for everything that happened to my family. But now, doubt was creeping in, threatening to unravel the narrative I’d clung to so tightly.

“What do we do?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“We dig,” Dante said, his eyes locking onto mine. “We find the truth, no matter how ugly it is.”

The determination in his voice steadied me, if only slightly.

But as I left his office, one thought lingered in my mind: What if the truth was more than I could handle?

Cliffhanger: The chapter ends with Olivia learning about a leaked file implicating her father in the corruption case. Torn between disbelief and the need for answers, she’s forced to face the possibility that everything she believed about her past—and about Dante—might be wrong. The growing tension sets the stage for further revelations and deepens the emotional stakes.