Chapter 10 - Blood Chemistry
The aircraft flew south, staying beneath radar ceilings and cutting through the jagged Appalachian ridges. Inside the cabin, the only sounds were the low drone of the turbines and the steady, rhythmic beeping of the portable infant vital monitor. Paige had fallen into an exhausted, medicated sleep, a tiny nasal cannula supplying oxygen, her pink blanket replaced with a thermal foil wrap.
Elena sat on the bench opposite Dante, holding Paige’s tiny hand. The initial shock had worn off, leaving behind a cold, hollow exhaustion. She looked at Dante, who had not moved from the floor for an hour. He had stripped off his ruined suit jacket; his white shirt was stained gray, unbuttoned at the neck to reveal the sprawling ink of a raven spreading its wings across his chest.
""How did you know?"" Elena asked quietly, her voice barely carrying over the engines. ""About her birthmark?""
Dante didn't lift his head immediately. He was staring at the palm of his hand, tracing the scar tissue across his knuckles. ""My father had it. His father had it. In the old country, they called it the Mark of the Falcon. Every firstborn in my family carries it on their left wrist."" He looked up, his dark eyes hollowed by guilt. ""When you told me her age... eight months... the math didn't lie. I left you in Rome nine months before she was born.""
Elena looked away, tears welling up again. ""I didn't want this life for her, Dante. I saw what you were. I saw the men who came to your villa in the middle of the night. I saw the blood on the patio tiles that your housekeepers had to bleach out. I wanted a daughter who grew up in a suburb with a white fence, going to public school, worrying about spelling bees, not sniper fire.""
""You were right to run,"" Dante said, his voice flat, devoid of self-pity. ""I wouldn't have followed you. I would have let you stay gone.""
Elena turned back, her eyes flashing with anger. ""Then why did you come today? Why didn't you let your security team handle it?""
""Because she isn't just a target, Elena,"" Dante said, standing up slowly, towering over the cabin as he stepped toward the examination bench. He looked down at the sleeping child, his face softening with an agonizing tenderness that seemed entirely alien on his hardened features. ""She is my blood. And in my world, you burn down the earth before you let anyone touch your blood.""
The cockpit door slid open, and the co-pilot stepped out, holding a satellite phone. ""Boss. We have the toxicology results from the hospital sample. It’s not just Salvatore.""
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Dante turned sharply. ""Speak.""
""The compound in the vial wasn't sourced from the Valenti family,"" the co-pilot said, handing Dante the decrypted report. ""The chemical markers belong to a private military contractor out of Geneva. The contract was paid for through an escrow account held by your own corporate board.""
