Chapter 8: The Black Wolf
The name Valen Cortez hadn't been spoken in years. Not inside the Obsidian Club. Not in Dante's circle. Not even whispered in the back alleys where death wore silk gloves.
Because everyone believed he was dead.
Buried in concrete.
Burned in silence.
But death was patient. And Valen had never been a man to stay gone.
---
The first sign was a black envelope.
No name. Just a symbol.
A wolf's head marked in bloodred wax, jaw open, teeth bared. Delivered not to Dante directly—but to the playroom of the penthouse. Where the twins had never been before today.
One of the guards found it while inspecting the room before Evelyn was to arrive. His hand trembled as he brought it to Dante, like it burned through his gloves.
Dante took it without a word, broke the seal with his thumb.
Inside was a single photo.
Evelyn. Outside a school in Spain. Leo on her hip. Luca behind her. Smiling.
The date on the back was from three years ago.
That was impossible.
He had eyes in Europe. He had eyes everywhere.
But someone else had seen her first.
Someone had waited.
There were no fingerprints on the envelope. No scent. No trace. But the message was clear:
You thought you buried me. You buried the wrong man.
Dante stared at the photo for a long time before he spoke.
"Bring Evelyn to me. Now."
---
Evelyn was still damp from the rain when they pulled her into the club's back corridor again, this time with less force—but more urgency.
She didn't ask questions.
Something had shifted. She could feel it. In the tension of the guards' movements, in the silence that buzzed like electricity.
Dante was waiting in the glass atrium of his private level. The space was dim, lit only by a chandelier of dangling black crystals and the flicker of firelight from a corner hearth.
The envelope was on the table.
He didn't speak right away.
Just handed her the photo.
Her fingers shook.
Then she cursed under her breath, sitting down hard on the leather armrest.
"You know him?" Dante asked.
Her mouth went dry. "If that photo exists… then he's close."
"So you do know him."
She nodded slowly. "We were in the same safe house. After I left."
Dante's voice dropped. "You told me you had no help."
"I lied."
"You're not very good at that."
She flinched, but didn't reply.
Dante leaned forward. "Valen Cortez died in the fire at Saint Elena. Burned beyond identification."
"That's what he wanted you to think."
He blinked. "He planned it?"
Evelyn hesitated. "He didn't plan to fake his death… he just didn't plan to die."
"Why is he following you?"
"I don't know." Her voice cracked. "But I know how he works. He doesn't show his face until it's too late."
Dante stood and crossed to the window. "Is he after me?"
"No," she said. "He's after them."
Dante turned sharply.
"He knows who they are," she continued. "He always knew. That's why I left the way I did. That's why I didn't tell you. He told me… that if I stayed, they'd never live to walk."
Dante's fists clenched. "And you didn't come to me?"
"I did once." Her voice was hollow. "But you were knee-deep in blood. Obsessed with revenge. You'd just killed your own uncle. I watched you put a gun to your cousin's head and not blink."
"I spared him," Dante said tightly.
"Yes. After he begged."
Silence stretched between them.
He finally said, "So you ran."
"I ran," she whispered. "Because I knew if I stayed, he'd make me choose—between the twins and you."
---
That Night – The Twins' Apartment
Leo sat up in bed, staring at the ceiling.
The air was too quiet.
Even Luca had stopped snoring.
Something outside the window flickered. A flash. Like a camera. Then nothing.
He climbed out of bed and padded barefoot to the window. He didn't see anything now—just streetlights and the faint orange glow of the night.
Still…
He felt it.
He turned to Luca, still curled in his sheets. Then went into the living room.
Annie was asleep on the couch, phone in hand, a show paused mid-scene.
Leo tiptoed past her, climbed onto the armchair, and looked out again.
That's when he saw it.
A man.
Standing across the street. Tall. Black coat. No umbrella. Just standing there, like the rain didn't touch him.
Watching.
Leo ducked, breath caught in his throat.
He didn't scream.
Didn't run.
Instead, he went into the hallway and locked the front door. Then the windows. Then the balcony.
He pulled Luca's stuffed lion from the bed and tucked it under his brother's arms. Luca grumbled but didn't wake.
Leo climbed into bed beside him, eyes wide open.
He's here.
He found us.
---
Back at the Obsidian Club
Dante watched Evelyn closely. Every flicker of her expression. Every breath.
"You came back to warn me."
"No," she said. "I came back because I can't do this alone anymore."
"And now?"
She met his eyes. "Now I'll burn everything down if I have to."
He studied her a moment longer.
Then nodded.
"Then we begin tonight."
He walked to the wall and pressed his hand to a black panel.
A safe opened.
Inside: weapons, files, a phone that only rang when death was calling.
He handed it to her.
"Call your sons."
She frowned. "It's late."
"Call them," he said again, more forcefully.
She obeyed.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Then Leo's voice answered, whisper-quiet.
"Hello?"
Evelyn smiled. "Hey, baby. You okay?"
A pause. Then, "Mommy… there's a man outside."
Her blood ran cold.
"Did he come in?"
"No. I locked everything."
"Good. That's good. Don't open the door. Don't look out the window. Stay in your room and hide, okay?"
"Okay."
"I love you. I'll be there soon."
The line went dead.
Evelyn looked at Dante, panic starting to rise.
He was already dialing.
"Get to the twins," he ordered. "Send every man we've got. And if anyone even breathes wrong near that apartment—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't have to.