Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO TURNED PALE
Marcus entered wearing the navy suit I had pressed for him the previous evening.
He carried a bouquet of white roses.
For anyone watching, he looked like a thoughtful husband surprising his wife at work.
I knew better.
White roses meant apology.
An apology meant he expected forgiveness.
And forgiveness meant I was supposed to forget what had happened before sunrise.
“There you are, sweetheart.”
He smiled.
Then saw Dante.
The smile vanished.
His face went white.
Not pale from surprise.
White with terror.
“Mr. Castellano.”
Dante didn't move.
“Do we know each other?”
Marcus swallowed.
“No, sir.”
The lie came too quickly.
Dante glanced at me.
“Is this your husband?”
I nodded.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Mia, honey, I was worried. You weren't answering your phone.”
I looked at the roses.
He had remembered to buy flowers.
He hadn't remembered to ask whether I could breathe without pain.
“I was working.”
“Of course.” His eyes flickered toward Dante. “I'm sorry to interrupt.”
Dante studied him.
“What do you do, Mr...?”
“Vale,” Marcus said. “Marcus Vale.”
“I didn't ask your name.”
Marcus blinked.
Dante continued, “I asked what you do.”
“Financial consulting.”
“For whom?”
“Different clients.”
“Interesting.”
Marcus shifted his weight.
I recognized the movement.
He wanted to leave.
But he didn't want to appear rude to Dante Castellano.
For once, his fear had nothing to do with me.
“Mia,” Marcus said softly, “let's talk outside.”
I almost followed automatically.
Dante noticed.
He didn't stop me.
He simply said, “You can stay here if you prefer.”
Marcus's eyes narrowed for half a second.
Then his smile returned.
“Of course she can. I would never tell my wife what to do.”
I nearly laughed.
The sound would have been ugly.
Instead, I said, “I'm staying at work.”
Marcus stared.
“Sweetheart—”
“I'm staying.”
He looked at Dante.
Whatever he saw in the man's face made him retreat.
“Fine. I'll see you at home.”
He placed the roses on a side table.
Then left.
Only after the door closed did I realize I was shaking.
Dante looked toward the flowers.
“Do you want those?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Then they can go.”
Ten minutes later, Giuseppe found me sitting in the employee break room.
He closed the door.
“I've seen enough,” he said.
My throat tightened.
“Please don't fire me.”
His face crumpled.
“Fire you?”
I looked away.
Giuseppe sat across from me.
“Mia, my sister lived with a man like Marcus.”
I stared.
“She stayed because she thought she had nowhere to go.”
“What happened?”
“She left. Eventually.”
His eyes shone.
“But I wish someone had helped her sooner.”
I pressed my hands together.
“I don't know how.”
“Then we find someone who does.”
He placed Elena Vargas's business card beside my water bottle.
“Dante asked me to give you this if you wanted it.”
I looked at the card.
Then at Giuseppe.
“Does Dante know Marcus?”
Giuseppe hesitated.
“I think he recognized the name.”
“From where?”
“I don't know.”
But his expression told me something else.
He suspected.
At four, I stepped into the alley behind Romano's and called Elena.
She answered on the third ring.
“Elena Vargas.”
“My name is Mia Vale.”
A pause.
“Hello, Mia.”
“Dante Castellano gave me your number.”
“Understood.”
I stared at the brick wall.
“I think I need help leaving my husband.”
Her voice remained calm.
“Are you somewhere safe enough to talk?”
“Yes.”
“Then we'll begin with what you want, not what anyone else wants for you.”
I started crying.
Not because she sounded sympathetic.
Because she hadn't asked what I'd done to make Marcus angry.
By six, Elena had arranged an appointment at her office.
She explained emergency protective options, documentation, financial records, and safe housing resources.
She didn't promise that leaving would be easy.
She didn't tell me to be brave.
She gave me information.
And for the first time in years, information felt like oxygen.
Before ending the call, she asked one question.
“Does your husband have access to your phone?”
“Yes.”
“Then let's make a safer communication plan.”
I wrote her instructions on the back of an old receipt.
When I returned inside, Marco was waiting near the kitchen.
“Everything okay?”
I almost said yes.
Instead, I asked, “Why did Marcus look afraid of Dante?”
Marco's expression changed.
“That's a question for Dante.”
“Then tell him I'm asking.”
Marco nodded.
“I will.”
As I walked away, my phone vibrated again.
Marcus.
We need to talk about the money.
I stared.
What money?
May you like
Then another message appeared.
And don't tell Castellano anything.
