Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 39: Chapter 39
You are reading Dangerous Melodies, Chapter 39: Chapter 39. Read more chapters of Dangerous Melodies.
MARISOL
The music barely filled the room.
Soft, low. Just enough to keep my fingers moving, to keep the stillness from pressing too hard against my chest.
I let my hands glide over the keys of the grand piano Dante had given me, which sat in the sunroom like a promise he hadn’t quite kept.
The notes were familiar, but I wasn’t playing for sound. I was trying not to think.
I felt it. The distance. And even though I didn’t understand why he’d pulled back, I never pushed.
I found comfort here, letting the music fill the mansion. That soft sound floated down the halls like a bittersweet reminder of the space growing between us and the walls he kept building around his heart.
He hasn’t come upstairs in two days.
I knew where he was. Of course I did. Down the hall, the door closed, voice low when he wasn’t completely silent. Commanding an invisible army through glowing screens, launching some digital retaliation I only understood in fragments, filtered through Felix’s careful updates.
Everyone said it was about me. About what Marcos tried to do. About protecting me.
But it didn’t feel like protection. It felt like a wall.
The day we came back from Belize, he hadn’t looked at me the same. He still touched me gently, still kissed the crown of my head when he thought I was asleep.
But there was distance in him now. A pull, like gravity shifting. I kept telling myself he was scared. That this was love, just shaped like strategy. That if I pressed too hard, I might crack whatever line he was barely holding.
He’s trying to keep me safe, I told myself again. Even if it means shutting me out to do it.
The melody wavered. My hands stilled.
A faint murmur drifted in from the hallway, Dante’s voice low and clipped. Then silence again. It always went like that.
Whatever war he was fighting, it didn’t belong to me. Not really. Not anymore.
I pushed up from the bench, heart too loud in the hush of the room, and moved to the doorway. The sound of my bare feet against the cool tile barely echoed.
At the end of the hall, I stopped.
The door to his office was closed, but a strip of light bled from underneath. Behind it, shadows moved: shapes that were all sharp edges. Screens. Weapons. Men. Not mine. Not the life we’d promised each other in the hush of a honeymoon bed.
Let me in, I wanted to say. Let me carry this with you. Or at the very least, stop making me the reason you’re bleeding.
My hand hovered near the doorframe, fingers curling into my palm.
I didn’t knock. Didn’t breathe loud enough to draw attention.
Instead, I whispered his name under my breath once, soft, like a prayer, and walked away.
DANTE
It had only been a few days since Marisol and I returned early from our honeymoon, our escape to Belize cut short by the looming threat. The abrupt end to our time together made one thing painfully clear: getting too close to her had consequences I wasn’t ready to face.
Marcos had sent his men to capture her, dragging us back into the fray far sooner than I’d planned.
Since then, I’d thrown myself into dismantling Marcos’s operations, putting as much space between Marisol and me as I could manage. It was easier to focus on tactics than deal with the emotions clawing their way through me, the same ones that once tore my family apart.
I spent hours locked in my office, chasing one lead after another, obsessed with protecting her while dodging feelings I didn’t know how to handle.
The only light in the room came from the glow of multiple screens, casting a cold wash over the walls as I hunched over my workstation. My fingers flew across the keyboard, line after line of code rolling into place. A digital symphony, sharp and controlled, composed with one goal in mind: cripple Marcos’s empire.
Felix stood nearby, arms relaxed at his sides, but his eyes never missed a move. He knew better than to speak when I got like this, locked in the space where strategy and code fused into a weapon.
“You’ve got everything lined up?” he asked finally, voice low but respectful.
“Every account, every asset,” I said without looking up. My tone was calm, measured. “I tracked the funds through every shell company and offshore bank. Once I hit execute, his cash flow freezes. He won’t be able to buy a cup of coffee, let alone fund his operations.”
Felix let out a short laugh, clearly impressed. “And the supply lines?”
I paused, opened another terminal, eyes narrowing on the flood of logistics data.
“I hacked his network. I see every shipment, every route. Once the assets are locked, the chain collapses. Trucks stopped at borders, ships stuck in port, planes grounded. His entire operation goes dark.”
He stepped closer, scanning the maps and data flashing across the monitors. “He won’t see it coming?”
I let a slow smile pull at the corner of my mouth. Cold. Confident.
“I’ve cloaked everything behind layered encryption. By the time he realizes what’s happening, it'll be too late to trace anything back to us. But he’ll know it was me. This has my signature all over it.”
I dropped the final piece of code into place, finger hovering over the key that would set the whole thing off.
One look at Felix, one nod.
“Let’s make this bastard bleed.”
And I hit the command.
The screens lit up, alive with movement. Commands pinged out to financial institutions and logistical systems across the globe. I watched the ripple effect in real time. Zeroed-out accounts, flagged cargo manifests, frozen transactions. Marcos’s empire started to crumble, one keystroke at a time.
Minutes passed like hours.
The silence in the room stretched tight, then my secure line rang.
I didn’t need to check the caller. I already knew.
“Kincade,” Marcos spat my name like poison. “You think you can pull this and walk away? You have no idea what you’ve started.”
I leaned back, keeping my tone ice-cold.
“I gave you a goodwill gesture once. Free. A sign of respect. I thought we could operate without stepping on each other.” I let that hang, sharp and pointed. “And you repaid me by sending men after my wife.”
The word hit hard. I made sure it did. His silence told me exactly how deep it cut.
“You think I’ll let that slide?” I said, voice dropping an octave. “I could dismantle everything you’ve built with a few keystrokes. You know I’ve done it before. Entire empires, gone. So here it is: leave Marisol alone, or I’ll burn your operation to the ground.”
A long pause followed.
He was calculating. I could feel it through the line.
“What do you want, Kincade?” he growled, voice scraped raw with frustration.
“Simple,” I said. “You walk away from Marisol. Forever. Stop the pursuit. Stay the hell away. In return, I’ll unfreeze your assets. You’ll keep what’s left. Refuse, and I take everything.”
His breath came heavy through the phone, rough with fury.
“You think a flashy cyberattack scares me? This isn’t over.”
I smiled, sharp and humorless.
“This isn’t a stunt. This is reality. I own your finances, your routes, your network. You’re already feeling it. And I haven’t even pulled out the big guns. So ask yourself: is your obsession with my wife worth losing everything?”
The silence that followed dragged, thick and choking.
Then: “Fine. You win. I’ll leave her alone. But if you think we’re even—”
“We’re not,” I cut in, voice flat. “Keep your word, and we won’t cross paths again. Come near her, even once, and there won’t be a next time. I’ll destroy you before you know it’s coming.”
No response.
Just the dead click of the call ending.
I stared at the dark screen for a long second, then exhaled slowly, tension bleeding out but not gone.
Felix stepped up, brow raised. “You think he’ll stick to it?”
I glanced at the screen, fingers already moving to unfreeze just enough of Marcos’s assets to hold up my end.
“For now. But he’s a snake. If we blink, he’ll strike.”
Felix nodded, quiet and certain. “What now?”
“We stay vigilant,” I said. My focus narrowed again, already scanning for threats. “He knows the cost of crossing us. Doesn’t mean he won’t try again. I want eyes on every move he makes. If he slips, we end it.”
The screens flickered, showing the slow unraveling of the freeze.
I leaned back, the weight of it all settling over me like a storm cloud that hadn’t passed.
This round was mine.
But the war wasn’t over.
And in the quiet of my office, I made myself a promise: I’d protect Marisol.
No matter what it cost me.
The music barely filled the room.
Soft, low. Just enough to keep my fingers moving, to keep the stillness from pressing too hard against my chest.
I let my hands glide over the keys of the grand piano Dante had given me, which sat in the sunroom like a promise he hadn’t quite kept.
The notes were familiar, but I wasn’t playing for sound. I was trying not to think.
I felt it. The distance. And even though I didn’t understand why he’d pulled back, I never pushed.
I found comfort here, letting the music fill the mansion. That soft sound floated down the halls like a bittersweet reminder of the space growing between us and the walls he kept building around his heart.
He hasn’t come upstairs in two days.
I knew where he was. Of course I did. Down the hall, the door closed, voice low when he wasn’t completely silent. Commanding an invisible army through glowing screens, launching some digital retaliation I only understood in fragments, filtered through Felix’s careful updates.
Everyone said it was about me. About what Marcos tried to do. About protecting me.
But it didn’t feel like protection. It felt like a wall.
The day we came back from Belize, he hadn’t looked at me the same. He still touched me gently, still kissed the crown of my head when he thought I was asleep.
But there was distance in him now. A pull, like gravity shifting. I kept telling myself he was scared. That this was love, just shaped like strategy. That if I pressed too hard, I might crack whatever line he was barely holding.
He’s trying to keep me safe, I told myself again. Even if it means shutting me out to do it.
The melody wavered. My hands stilled.
A faint murmur drifted in from the hallway, Dante’s voice low and clipped. Then silence again. It always went like that.
Whatever war he was fighting, it didn’t belong to me. Not really. Not anymore.
I pushed up from the bench, heart too loud in the hush of the room, and moved to the doorway. The sound of my bare feet against the cool tile barely echoed.
At the end of the hall, I stopped.
The door to his office was closed, but a strip of light bled from underneath. Behind it, shadows moved: shapes that were all sharp edges. Screens. Weapons. Men. Not mine. Not the life we’d promised each other in the hush of a honeymoon bed.
Let me in, I wanted to say. Let me carry this with you. Or at the very least, stop making me the reason you’re bleeding.
My hand hovered near the doorframe, fingers curling into my palm.
I didn’t knock. Didn’t breathe loud enough to draw attention.
Instead, I whispered his name under my breath once, soft, like a prayer, and walked away.
DANTE
It had only been a few days since Marisol and I returned early from our honeymoon, our escape to Belize cut short by the looming threat. The abrupt end to our time together made one thing painfully clear: getting too close to her had consequences I wasn’t ready to face.
Marcos had sent his men to capture her, dragging us back into the fray far sooner than I’d planned.
Since then, I’d thrown myself into dismantling Marcos’s operations, putting as much space between Marisol and me as I could manage. It was easier to focus on tactics than deal with the emotions clawing their way through me, the same ones that once tore my family apart.
I spent hours locked in my office, chasing one lead after another, obsessed with protecting her while dodging feelings I didn’t know how to handle.
The only light in the room came from the glow of multiple screens, casting a cold wash over the walls as I hunched over my workstation. My fingers flew across the keyboard, line after line of code rolling into place. A digital symphony, sharp and controlled, composed with one goal in mind: cripple Marcos’s empire.
Felix stood nearby, arms relaxed at his sides, but his eyes never missed a move. He knew better than to speak when I got like this, locked in the space where strategy and code fused into a weapon.
“You’ve got everything lined up?” he asked finally, voice low but respectful.
“Every account, every asset,” I said without looking up. My tone was calm, measured. “I tracked the funds through every shell company and offshore bank. Once I hit execute, his cash flow freezes. He won’t be able to buy a cup of coffee, let alone fund his operations.”
Felix let out a short laugh, clearly impressed. “And the supply lines?”
I paused, opened another terminal, eyes narrowing on the flood of logistics data.
“I hacked his network. I see every shipment, every route. Once the assets are locked, the chain collapses. Trucks stopped at borders, ships stuck in port, planes grounded. His entire operation goes dark.”
He stepped closer, scanning the maps and data flashing across the monitors. “He won’t see it coming?”
I let a slow smile pull at the corner of my mouth. Cold. Confident.
“I’ve cloaked everything behind layered encryption. By the time he realizes what’s happening, it'll be too late to trace anything back to us. But he’ll know it was me. This has my signature all over it.”
I dropped the final piece of code into place, finger hovering over the key that would set the whole thing off.
One look at Felix, one nod.
“Let’s make this bastard bleed.”
And I hit the command.
The screens lit up, alive with movement. Commands pinged out to financial institutions and logistical systems across the globe. I watched the ripple effect in real time. Zeroed-out accounts, flagged cargo manifests, frozen transactions. Marcos’s empire started to crumble, one keystroke at a time.
Minutes passed like hours.
The silence in the room stretched tight, then my secure line rang.
I didn’t need to check the caller. I already knew.
“Kincade,” Marcos spat my name like poison. “You think you can pull this and walk away? You have no idea what you’ve started.”
I leaned back, keeping my tone ice-cold.
“I gave you a goodwill gesture once. Free. A sign of respect. I thought we could operate without stepping on each other.” I let that hang, sharp and pointed. “And you repaid me by sending men after my wife.”
The word hit hard. I made sure it did. His silence told me exactly how deep it cut.
“You think I’ll let that slide?” I said, voice dropping an octave. “I could dismantle everything you’ve built with a few keystrokes. You know I’ve done it before. Entire empires, gone. So here it is: leave Marisol alone, or I’ll burn your operation to the ground.”
A long pause followed.
He was calculating. I could feel it through the line.
“What do you want, Kincade?” he growled, voice scraped raw with frustration.
“Simple,” I said. “You walk away from Marisol. Forever. Stop the pursuit. Stay the hell away. In return, I’ll unfreeze your assets. You’ll keep what’s left. Refuse, and I take everything.”
His breath came heavy through the phone, rough with fury.
“You think a flashy cyberattack scares me? This isn’t over.”
I smiled, sharp and humorless.
“This isn’t a stunt. This is reality. I own your finances, your routes, your network. You’re already feeling it. And I haven’t even pulled out the big guns. So ask yourself: is your obsession with my wife worth losing everything?”
The silence that followed dragged, thick and choking.
Then: “Fine. You win. I’ll leave her alone. But if you think we’re even—”
“We’re not,” I cut in, voice flat. “Keep your word, and we won’t cross paths again. Come near her, even once, and there won’t be a next time. I’ll destroy you before you know it’s coming.”
No response.
Just the dead click of the call ending.
I stared at the dark screen for a long second, then exhaled slowly, tension bleeding out but not gone.
Felix stepped up, brow raised. “You think he’ll stick to it?”
I glanced at the screen, fingers already moving to unfreeze just enough of Marcos’s assets to hold up my end.
“For now. But he’s a snake. If we blink, he’ll strike.”
Felix nodded, quiet and certain. “What now?”
“We stay vigilant,” I said. My focus narrowed again, already scanning for threats. “He knows the cost of crossing us. Doesn’t mean he won’t try again. I want eyes on every move he makes. If he slips, we end it.”
The screens flickered, showing the slow unraveling of the freeze.
I leaned back, the weight of it all settling over me like a storm cloud that hadn’t passed.
This round was mine.
But the war wasn’t over.
And in the quiet of my office, I made myself a promise: I’d protect Marisol.
No matter what it cost me.
End of Dangerous Melodies Chapter 39. Continue reading Chapter 40 or return to Dangerous Melodies book page.