Dinner on Friday

30. Dante

THE STORMS WITHIN

I buried my disappointment and anger as I studied the quiet street in front of Eva's apartment. This neighborhood had a distinct scent. A melange of less-than-clean scents, yet strangely inviting. Homey.

The scent of heavily spiced food lingered in the air and there was a dampness in the thin veil of fog slithering about.

The street light nearest to where we stood flickered continuously, casting erratic shadows that played on the worn pavement. Amidst the quiet, a dog barked in the distance. A car drove by, the hum of its engine fading away down the road.

"That house has cameras. Find out what they know." My order wasn't directed at anyone specifically, but Schipper and Vlad took the task upon them, walking down the dimly lit streets with long strides.

Bruce stayed behind and folded his arms over his massive chest. "I knew you couldn't keep her."

"Excuse me?"

The man smiled as if he knew something I didn't know. "She wasn't built for this life. You knew that, and still, you married her, knowing that your involvement with the clan would follow you around until the day you died."

My jaw tightened, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "Carla chose me, not the clan. I chose her, not the clan. I won't let them dictate our lives."

Bruce's chuckle carried a hint of cynicism. "Love might be powerful, but it's no match for the ties that bind you to your family. You can't escape your past, Dante."

"The fuck I can't. I won't let Carla be a pawn in the clan's games. And we don't even know if the clan is involved in Carla's disappearance." I tugged on my jacket as the wind picked up, sending a batch of leaves swirling down the street.

"Your family has a lot of enemies. You're a fool to believe otherwise."

The air thickened with tension, shadows dancing across the quiet street as I grappled with the possibility that my family's criminal involvement had come back to bite me in the ass despite distancing myself from them.

"Bruce," I said, "I'm so fucking angry with her. How could she leave without telling me anything? I treated her right. Loved her. Provided a safe space for her. I would kill for her and she knows it. I was loyal to her, and this is how she..." I shook my head. "I don't understand why she did what she did. It makes no sense."

The big man's gaze bore into me, unmoved by my outburst. "Dante, love is a battleground. Your loyalty doesn't give you immunity from the chaos that surrounds us all. Sometimes, even the safest spaces can't shield us from the storms within."

"If she was fighting some inner battle, why didn't she come to me?"

"I don't know, but I believe she must have told you something, and with everything going on, you misjudged how important it was to her."

I shook my head again. "You don't understand. Besides Carla, the restaurant is my only priority. She comes first. Always. I promised her that I would always put her first."

"I don't have all the answers," Bruce admitted, "but the sooner we find her, the sooner we'll understand why. For now, it's okay to be angry." He paused. "Or disappointed."

As we stood there, waiting for Vlad and Schipper to return, my mind drifted to my last encounter with Carla.

I saw flashes of relief in her eyes after learning that her mother was going to be okay, but it was the type of shallow relief people felt for acquaintances. It bothered me that she didn't seem bothered by the fact that she could have lost her mother there and then.