Page 99 of Powerful Deception
Dante nods. “Angel had his two-month checkup, so she was taking him to it. Alessandra, she never wanted to leave her mother’s side and with a new baby around she always wanted to be with them, so she went too. When I got to the hospital, they had told me that one of them didn’t make it, and it wasn’t until an hour later that they told me it was Angelina. Angel came out with only a few scratches, his car seat saving him. As for Alessandra, a piece of metal somehow got loose and hit her face. That’s where the scar came from. She also had a broken leg and had surgery to repair it.”
Alessandra got her scar from the car accident that killed her mother. I wonder, I’ve wondered from day one how a beautiful little girl with blueish eyes could have something so ugly be done to her, and now I know.
“That’s the day she stopped talking, wasn’t?” I ask, my voice small barely audible.
Dante gives me another nod. “She was always a happy little girl, always talking and curious about the sounds leaving her mouth. Her laugh would always fill the house, but after that day it all stopped. I tried to get words out of her. I tried so much but she never did. For months all I heard from her were grunts and closed mouth screams. Never words. I took her to so many specialists and therapists thinking something happened during the accident that they didn’t see but they all said nothing was wrong. She just didn’t want to talk. I was told to give her time. When she said bye in the kitchen, it was the first time I had heard her voice in months. I didn’t know how much I missed it until that moment.”
I can hear the love he has for his daughter in his voice and see it in his eyes. Hearing him speak like this, finally causes the tears that I was holding back to escape.
Not knowing what to say, I give him the piece of me that relates to his precious daughter.
“My mom died when I was twelve. Also in a car accident and like Angel and Allie, I was also in the car. We were heading to Wrigley, going to meet my dad at the game, when we got t-boned. The car hit the driver side and according to the paramedics that arrived a few minutes after, she died on impact too. My only saving grace was that I was in the back behind the passenger side. A few cuts but I was fine, physically at least. Mentally it has stayed with me through the years, but it gets better.”
He watches me as I speak and I can see a bit of sympathy in his eyes for me. Without wanting any more room between us, I go to him, breaking the space and wrapping my arms around him.
I relax when I feel him shift and feel his hands move to hold me to him. We stand like that, wrapped in each other's arms for a long minute or two.
“It won't be long before she is talking in full sentences again. It will happen.” I say against his chest.
“I hope you’re right.” He mutters into my hair.
I hope I’m right too, because I don’t think that I can keep seeing him so beat down over something that he has no control over.
“Hopefully the nightmares will be at bay soon.” Dante voices, more to himself than anything when he pulls away and walk over to the fridge.
“Hopefully they will.” I say back.
Moving my eyes away from him, I look down at the mail that he was looking through when I walked in.
It's mostly junk except a cream-colored envelope that is addressed to Dante. Curious, I flip it over to see who it’s from and instantly feel my eyebrows shoot up.
“You know the Lane family?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the pretty embossed envelope.
“Doesn’t everyone in Chicago?” He voices.
He’s right, everyone one knows who they are, hell up until a few months ago I could say I had no connection to them. Then the pretty lady showed up at my door with a check and boom instant connection.
I wonder what Ella Vincent would say if she found out that not only did I not heed her warning, but I’m sleeping with the man.
Bet she would be so proud.
“I don’t know but it looks like they invited you to something.” I say, sliding the envelope over to him.
He takes it and rips it open to look it over. It’s not even a second before the fancy piece of paper is back on the counter.
“It's just an invitation to the Lane Foundation Gala. It's on the first.” He tells me without a care.
My eyes go wide. I may not know the Lane family personally but I do know that the Lane Foundation Gala is the biggest party in Chicago. Only donors and the almighty elite get invited.
“You donate to the foundation?” I ask, a little stunned that he was invited. I’ve always wanted to go to one of those parties.
Dante shrugs. “They help a lot of people that are struggling.”
Like me, they help people like me, I want to say.
For a second, my thoughts go back to the check I received. Was there another reason for me getting that check besides the kindness of Bennett Lane’s heart? Like possibly him getting a phone call from my father’s killer asking to make a charitable donation in his name to me so that I don’t struggle?
Could that be possible?