CHAPTER 2 — The Women Who Never Left
CHAPTER 2 — The Women Who Never Left
The fire had burned low by the time Evelyn finally closed the diary.
Her fingers lingered on the worn leather cover.
For several minutes, neither she nor Dante spoke.
Outside the penthouse windows, Chicago glittered beneath a cold October sky, its lights reflected across the dark waters of the river. The city looked peaceful.
It was an illusion.
Just like her marriage had been.
She looked back at the diary.
"How many?"
Dante already knew what she meant.
"Twenty-one."
She frowned.
"Twenty-one what?"
"Wives."
Her throat tightened.
"The Castellano family has had twenty-one wives over four generations."
"And every one of them..." she whispered.
"They all disappeared from history."
Evelyn shook her head.
"That's impossible."
"It should be."
"But history has a habit of disappearing when wealthy men write it."
Dante stood and walked toward a wall lined with old filing cabinets.
He unlocked one drawer.
Inside were dozens of folders.
Each carried a woman's name.
He selected one.
Then another.
Then another.
He placed three folders on the coffee table.
"I'll let them introduce themselves."
The first folder belonged to—
Lucia Castellano.
Married: 1952.
Declared mentally unstable: 1956.
Died in a private psychiatric hospital six months later.
Cause of death:
Heart failure.
Evelyn opened the file.
A photograph slipped onto the table.
A beautiful brunette smiled into the camera while wearing the same sapphire ring.
She looked...
Happy.
Until Evelyn turned the page.
There was a handwritten letter.
The ink had faded with time.
If anyone ever finds this...
I am not sick.
They keep telling everyone I imagine things.
But every woman who wears this ring disappears.
Evelyn felt goosebumps rise along her arms.
She reached for the second file.
Margaret Castellano.
Married: 1978.
Died in a boating accident.
Body never recovered.
The third file...
Isabella Castellano.
Married: 1999.
Official cause of death:
Prescription overdose.
Police investigation:
Closed within forty-eight hours.
Evelyn looked up.
"They're all..."
"Inconvenient."
Dante nodded.
"They all reached the point where they stopped obeying."
She stared at the photographs spread across the table.
Different decades.
Different hairstyles.
Different smiles.
The same sapphire.
The same ending.
Then she noticed something.
"They all look..."
"Younger?"
"No."
She pointed.
"They all have bruises."
Dante smiled sadly.
"You noticed."
Tiny marks.
Covered by makeup.
Hidden beneath sleeves.
Faint discoloration near wrists.
One woman had a healing cut across her finger.
Exactly where the sapphire rested.
Exactly where Roman had cut Evelyn.
"Why are you showing me this?"
"Because you think your story began four years ago."
"It didn't."
"It began one hundred and six years ago."
She looked at him in disbelief.
"The ring wasn't given to you because Roman loved you."
"It was given to you because the family needed another woman to own."
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Every expensive gift.
Every carefully chosen dress.
Every party.
Every apology after another cruel argument.
None of it had been love.
It had been maintenance.
Maintaining possession.
A knock interrupted the silence.
One of Dante's security men entered.
"Sir."
Dante turned.
"What is it?"
"They've started."
His expression hardened.
"What happened?"
"The Castellano lawyers have filed an emergency petition."
Evelyn frowned.
"For what?"
The guard looked uncomfortable.
"They're reporting you missing."
She blinked.
"What?"
"They're claiming you've suffered a mental breakdown after abandoning the gala."
Another folder landed on the table.
Freshly printed.
Already.
Dante opened it.
Chicago's biggest news websites had begun publishing identical headlines.
SOCIALITE EVELYN CASTELLANO SUFFERS EMOTIONAL COLLAPSE DURING BIRTHDAY GALA
Another headline.
HUSBAND SEARCHES FOR DISTRAUGHT WIFE AFTER MENTAL HEALTH EPISODE
Another.
BUSINESS LEADER ROMAN CASTELLANO ASKS PUBLIC FOR PRIVACY
Evelyn laughed.
A quiet...
Broken laugh.
"It took them less than an hour."
"It always does."
Dante wasn't surprised.
"They're preparing the narrative."
She looked at him.
"So that's it?"
"I'm crazy now?"
"They'll make the entire city believe you are."
Across town...
Roman stood inside his private office.
Three attorneys.
Two public relations specialists.
One retired judge.
All waited silently.
Roman poured himself bourbon.
"No mistakes."
One attorney nodded.
"We've already contacted every major news outlet."
"The hospital?"
"They'll cooperate."
"The police?"
"They're expecting the missing person's report."
Roman took a slow sip.
"Good."
One younger lawyer hesitated.
"Sir..."
Roman looked at him.
"The hotel security footage."
"What about it?"
"There are recordings showing Mrs. Castellano willingly leaving."
Roman smiled.
"Then those recordings won't exist by morning."
No one questioned him.
No one ever did.
Vanessa stood alone in Roman's bedroom.
The sapphire felt heavier than before.
She stared at herself in the mirror.
Something was wrong.
She couldn't explain it.
She reached toward the ring.
For some reason...
She wanted to remove it.
It wouldn't move.
Her finger had already swollen.
She pulled harder.
Pain shot through her hand.
"Roman?"
No answer.
Again.
She twisted.
Nothing.
Then...
A tiny bead of blood appeared beneath the sapphire.
Vanessa froze.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Back inside the penthouse...
Evelyn couldn't stop staring at the news.
"They're destroying me."
"No."
Dante corrected gently.
"They're trying."
She looked exhausted.
"I'm so tired."
"I know."
"I don't think I can fight people like Roman."
"You've already started."
"I handed away a ring."
"You did much more than that."
He walked toward the enormous bookshelf.
From its highest shelf, he removed a wooden box.
Dark walnut.
Beautifully carved.
He placed it before her.
"What is this?"
"My father's."
Inside...
Were dozens of flash drives.
Hard drives.
Documents.
Photographs.
Audio tapes.
Every item carefully labeled.
Castellano.
Campaign Finance.
Judges.
Dock Records.
Bribery.
Illegal Imports.
Witness Payments.
She stared in disbelief.
"You've been collecting evidence?"
"For twenty-two years."
"Why haven't you gone to the FBI?"
"I did."
"And?"
"They buried it."
She looked up slowly.
"They're protected."
"Very."
"So how do we beat them?"
Dante's expression remained calm.
"We don't attack Roman."
She frowned.
"Then who?"
"We destroy the empire that protects him."
For the first time since leaving the ballroom...
Hope flickered inside Evelyn.
Tiny.
Fragile.
But real.
She looked at the evidence surrounding her.
"What do you need from me?"
Instead of answering immediately...
Dante asked a question.
"How much did Roman tell you about your father's death?"
Her heartbeat stopped.
"What?"
"He died four years ago."
"Yes."
"Car accident."
"Yes."
Dante held her gaze.
"No."
The room suddenly became silent.
"He was murdered."
Evelyn stared at him.
"No."
"I'm sorry."
"You're wrong."
"I wish I were."
"My father died because a truck—"
"The truck never lost control."
She slowly stood.
"No..."
Dante handed her a photograph.
A grainy surveillance image.
A black SUV following her father's car.
Timestamp.
The day he died.
Her hands began shaking.
"Who..."
She could barely breathe.
"Who was in the SUV?"
Dante answered quietly.
"We haven't identified the driver."
She looked into his eyes.
"But we know who ordered it."
The words landed like ice.
"No..."
"Dante..."
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
She already knew.
Roman.
The realization hollowed her from the inside.
She collapsed back into the chair.
Tears filled her eyes.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just silent grief.
Everything she believed about the last four years...
Had been built on a lie.
Miles away...
Roman stood alone in the darkness of his office.
His phone vibrated.
A private number.
He answered immediately.
"Well?"
A distorted voice replied.
"We found the car."
Roman smiled.
"And Evelyn?"
A pause.
Then—
"She's with Dante Vale."
Roman's smile disappeared.
For the first time in years...
He looked genuinely unsettled.
"Listen carefully," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"I don't care how much it costs."
"I don't care who has to disappear."
"But before sunrise..."
May you like
"I want my wife back."
End of Chapter 2
