Chapter7
1037 Words
Elena's POV
I didn't sleep. How could I? Cassandra's threat replayed in my mind like a broken record. "I'll make sure everyone knows who that little boy really belongs to.”
By dawn, I'd made three decisions: protect Aiden at all costs, stop hiding from Dante, and find out exactly what Cassandra knew.
Izzy arrived at seven with coffee and a grim expression. "Cassandra filed a restraining order against you."
I nearly dropped my cup. "What?"
"Claims you're harassing her family. Stalking Dante. She's painting you as an obsessed ex who faked her death and returned to destroy their lives." Izzy slid the papers across my kitchen counter. "It's garbage, but it's public record now. People will talk."
"Let them." I scanned the document, fury building with each line. "This is about control. She wants me scared."
"Is it working?"
I met her eyes. "No. It's making me angry."
My phone buzzed. Dante. *We need to talk. Now. My place.*
I texted back: *Can't. Restraining order.*
His response was immediate: *That's bullshit and you know it. I'll come to you.*
"Don't," I typed. "Not safe."
But he was already calling.
"Elena, what the hell is going on?" His voice was rough, furious. "Cassandra just told me she filed against you. I didn't authorize this."
"You don't need to. She's your wife."
"Ex-wife. The papers are being finalized." A pause. "She has no right to use my name for this."
"Dante, just stay away. She's watching everything. If you come here—"
"I don't care what she's watching. Tell me where you are."
"No."
"Elena—"
"I said no!" I hung up, hands shaking.
Izzy raised an eyebrow. "That'll keep him away for about ten minutes."
She was right. Twelve minutes later, Dante was at my door.
*************
"You can't be here," I hissed, not letting him inside.
"Then come with me. Somewhere neutral." His jaw was tight, eyes darker than I remembered. "Please. We need to talk about Cassandra, about what she knows, and about why someone tried to kill me."
"You think those things are connected?"
"Don't you?"
I hesitated. He was right. Too many pieces, too many coincidences. "Fine. But not here. And not anywhere she can follow."
Twenty minutes later, we sat in a private room at a hotel downtown. Neutral territory. Anonymous. Safe enough.
Dante closed the door behind us, and suddenly the room felt too small.
"Start talking," I said.
"Cassandra called me this morning. Said you'd been threatening her. Said you were dangerous." He leaned against the desk, studying me. "I didn't believe her. But then she mentioned Aiden."
My heart stopped. "What did she say?"
"That he's mine."
The words hung in the air like a grenade. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Years of secrets, years of protection, collapsing in a single sentence.
"She's lying," I managed.
"Is she?" Dante's voice was quiet, careful. "Because I did the math, Elena. The timeline fits. And he looks—"
"He's not yours to claim." The words came out sharper than intended. "You made your choice five years ago. You don't get to walk back into our lives now."
"Our lives." He stepped closer. "So you admit it."
I turned away, fists clenched. "I admit nothing. Aiden is my son. Mine. And you have no rights to him."
"Because you faked your death and took him away from me?"
I spun around. "Because you were too busy protecting your family's reputation to protect me! You chose Cassandra, chose the merger, chose everything except us. So yes, I left. I made sure you could never hurt us again."
His face went pale. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"But you did. And I won't let you hurt Aiden too."
Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. Finally, Dante spoke, his voice raw. "Someone tried to kill me, Elena. And I think it's connected to you. To us. To whatever Cassandra knows."
I forced myself to focus. "What makes you think that?"
"Because the attack happened two days after she found out you were alive." He pulled out his phone, showed me a text. "This came the night before I was ambushed."
*She's back. Deal with her, or I will.*
My blood ran cold. "Who sent this?"
"I don't know. Burner phone. Untraceable." He pocketed the device. "But Cassandra's been asking questions. About you, about Aiden, about what happened five years ago."
"How did she find out I'm alive?"
"Damian Cross. He reopened your case after seeing you at the hospital. Cassandra has connections in the police department. She got access to his files."
I swore under my breath. Cross was becoming a bigger problem than I anticipated.
"There's more," Dante continued. "Marcus has been making moves too. Buying up shares in my company, positioning himself for a takeover. And Lucian—my brother's been meeting with both of them."
The pieces started clicking together. Marcus wanted Dante's empire. Cassandra wanted Dante. And Lucian? He wanted power, whichever side offered more.
"They're playing against each other," I said slowly. "Using you as the prize."
"And using you as leverage." Dante's expression hardened. "We need to work together. Figure out who's behind the attack, who's feeding information, and how to protect Aiden."
"I don't need your protection."
"Yes, you do. Because Cassandra's not just threatening you anymore. She's threatening our son."
The words hit me like a punch. Our son. He'd said it so naturally, so certainly.
"DNA test," I said finally. "You want proof, fine. But it stays private. No courts, no lawyers, no Cassandra."
He nodded. "Agreed."
My phone rang. Unknown number again. I answered cautiously.
"Dr. Moretti, this is Detective Cross. I need you to come to the station. We have questions about Dante Blackthorne's attempted murder."
"I'm his surgeon. That's all."
"That's not what Cassandra Blackthorne says. She claims you had motive and opportunity." A pause. "She's filed charges. Attempted murder."
The room tilted. "That's insane."
"Maybe. But you'll need to come in and make a statement. Voluntarily, or I can send a warrant."
I hung up, mind racing.
Dante was watching me, concern written across his face. "What happened?"
"Cassandra just accused me of trying to kill you."
- Writer
