Chapter 3 - Room 614
Sophia watched the security image three times.
Her father.
Dr. Stephen Vale.
The missing cardiologist.
One supposedly dead.
One supposedly vanished.
Together.
Alessio took the phone.
“You're not going.”
“I am.”
“That wasn't a negotiation.”
Sophia looked at him.
“Then you're about to discover I don't work for you.”
Something almost approving appeared in his expression.
It vanished.
“Hotel Orsini has four public entrances, two staff entrances, and underground parking connected to the neighboring building.”
“How do you know that?”
“My family owns the neighboring building.”
“Of course you do.”
“I can get us inside without the lobby cameras seeing you.”
“You said us.”
“I've accepted that telling you not to go is useless.”
“Good.”
“It doesn't mean I'm pleased.”
“I can survive that.”
For the first time since waking on the plane, Sophia felt something other than fear.
Purpose.
If Thomas Bennett was alive, she would find him.
If someone had fabricated the photograph, she would learn why.
If Dr. Vale had lied about the death certificate, she would make him explain.
Alessio's convoy avoided the terminal.
Sophia sat beside him in the back of a black SUV while Rome moved outside the windows.
She had imagined seeing the city differently.
She had pictured ancient stone, cafés, tiny streets her mother described.
Instead, she watched rearview mirrors.
Every motorcycle looked suspicious.
Every dark sedan became a threat.
Alessio made calls in Italian.
Short.
Efficient.
Never repeating himself.
At one point Sophia noticed the driver glance into the mirror.
Alessio shook his head slightly.
The driver said nothing.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You're doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Deciding what I'm allowed to know.”
“Two motorcycles have been behind us since the airport.”
Sophia turned.
Alessio caught her shoulder.
“Don't.”
“How close?”
“Close enough.”
“Cardone?”
“Probably.”
“Can we lose them?”
“We already are.”
Their SUV turned sharply down a narrow street.
A second vehicle moved behind them.
Then a third cut between their car and the motorcycles.
Sophia heard horns.
No gunshots.
No dramatic chase.
Just traffic swallowing the motorcycles until they disappeared.
“That was deliberate,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You've done this before.”
“Yes.”
“How often are people trying to kill you?”
“Less often than people assume.”
“That isn't reassuring.”
“It wasn't intended to be.”
She looked at him.
“You repeat that.”
“It saves time.”
Despite everything, Sophia almost smiled.
Then she remembered the photograph.
Her father.
She touched the edge inside her bag.
Alessio noticed.
“If he's alive, there may be reasons he couldn't contact you.”
“If?”
“Sophia.”
“You saw him.”
“I saw a photograph and grainy hotel footage.”
“That was my father.”
“Maybe.”
“You don't believe me.”
“I believe grief makes people vulnerable to certainty.”
The words stung because they were reasonable.
She turned toward the window.
“My mother died when I was sixteen.”
“I know.”
“Of course.”
“Your father talked about her.”
That made Sophia look back.
“When?”
“The first time I met him.”
“In Naples?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Alessio paused.
“He said Maria Bennett hated flying but loved Italy enough to tolerate it.”
Sophia's throat tightened.
“That sounds like her.”
“He said you inherited both traits.”
A small laugh escaped Sophia before she could stop it.
“He said that?”
“More than once.”
“Did he talk about me often?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
“He loved you very much.”
Sophia looked down.
“Then if he's alive, why did he let me bury him?”
Alessio had no answer.
The neighboring building belonged to Romano Holdings, though no sign announced it.
They entered through underground parking and moved into a private elevator.
Sophia stood between Alessio and two security men.
“What happens if Marco is waiting?”
“We leave.”
“And if Dr. Vale is waiting?”
“We ask questions.”
“And if he has the gun?”
Alessio adjusted his cuff.
“He won't for long.”
Sophia believed him.
The elevator opened on the sixth floor of an office building.
They crossed an empty suite toward a service corridor connecting the properties.
One of Alessio's men unlocked a steel door.
Hotel carpet appeared beyond.
Room 614 was forty feet away.
Alessio held out a hand.
“Wait.”
One man approached the door and used a small device near the handle.
He shook his head.
“No movement,” he whispered.
Alessio stepped forward.
Sophia followed.
He looked irritated but didn't send her back.
They reached the door.
Alessio knocked once.
Nothing.
Again.
“Thomas.”
Sophia stared at him.
No response.
Alessio used a key card.
The lock turned green.
He pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
Bed untouched.
Curtains half drawn.
Lamp burning.
On the desk sat Sophia's leather journal.
She rushed toward it.
Alessio caught her waist.
“Don't.”
“It's mine.”
“Which is why it's sitting visibly in the center of a supposedly abandoned room.”
His security man checked it.
“No wire. No device.”
Sophia picked it up.
Same cracked leather.
Same faded initials.
M.B.
Maria Bennett.
Her mother's journal.
But something was wrong.
The journal felt lighter.
Sophia opened it.
Pages had been cut out.
Dozens.
“What did they take?”
She flipped through.
The entries began during her parents' honeymoon.
Restaurants.
Churches.
Train routes.
Her mother's messy handwriting.
Then a gap.
Thirty-two missing pages.
After that, ordinary entries resumed.
Alessio examined the cuts.
“Recent.”
“How can you tell?”
“Edges are clean.”
Sophia turned the journal over.
Something small fell onto the desk.
A brass key.
Stamped with one word.
TERMINI.
Alessio frowned.
“Train station.”
“Locker?”
“Probably.”
Sophia picked it up.
A number had been scratched onto the side.
She looked at him.
“Dad's number.”
Alessio nodded.
Then Sophia heard a sound.
Bathroom.
Very faint.
A breath.
Alessio heard it too.
His hand went inside his jacket.
“Stay behind me.”
He moved toward the bathroom.
One guard went left.
The other covered the entry.
Alessio pushed the door open.
Dr. Stephen Vale sat on the floor.
Blood stained his shirt.
His gun lay beside the sink.
Sophia gasped.
He raised his head.
“Sophia?”
She stepped forward.
Alessio stopped her.
Vale coughed.
“You shouldn't have come.”
“Where is my father?”
Vale closed his eyes.
“Thomas made me promise.”
“Where is he?”
“He survived.”
Sophia's knees weakened.
Alessio steadied her.
“What happened?” Alessio asked.
Vale looked at him.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“You were never supposed to know.”
“Know what?”
Vale laughed weakly.
“That Thomas didn't trust you.”
Alessio went still.
Sophia stared between them.
“Why wouldn't he trust Alessio?”
“Because Thomas learned the ledger wasn't just Cardone.”
Vale's breathing worsened.
“He found payments connected to Romano businesses.”
Sophia looked at Alessio.
His face revealed nothing.
“You said your name might be in it.”
“Yes.”
Vale shook his head.
“Not his name.”
“Whose?” Sophia demanded.
Vale looked at Alessio.
“His father's.”
Silence.
Alessio's father, Carlo Romano, had died five years earlier.
Sophia had read enough newspaper archives on the ride from the airport to know he had once controlled a network far darker than Alessio admitted.
“What did my father do?” she asked.
Vale pressed his hand against his side.
“He copied everything.”
“And then?”
“Vittorio learned.”
“Did Cardone poison him?”
Vale's eyes filled with shame.
“I helped fake the heart attack.”
Sophia stared.
“What?”
“He came to me two days before. He said if Vittorio believed he was dead, you would be safe.”
Sophia could barely process the words.
“The body?”
“An unidentified man. Similar age. Severe facial trauma before recovery.”
She recoiled.
“You signed that death certificate.”
“Yes.”
“You let me bury a stranger.”
Vale lowered his head.
“I am sorry.”
“Sorry?”
Her voice broke.
“For eight months I thought my father was dead.”
“I know.”
“You watched me identify him.”
“I know.”
“You let me stand over that coffin.”
Vale began crying silently.
Sophia wanted to hate him.
Part of her did.
But one question mattered more.
“Where is my father now?”
Vale looked toward the journal.
“He came to Rome.”
“Where?”
“To retrieve the original ledger.”
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then where is Dad?”
Vale swallowed.
“He was here ten minutes before you arrived.”
Sophia's heart leaped.
“Why did he leave?”
“Because someone called him.”
“Who?”
Vale's eyes moved toward Alessio.
Then fear appeared.
Not pain.
Fear.
“He said there was one person in Rome he could still trust.”
“Who?”
Vale opened his mouth.
A quiet click sounded from the hallway.
Alessio turned instantly.
His security man collapsed through the open doorway.
A dart protruded from his neck.
The lights went out.
Sophia felt Alessio grab her.
A voice came from the darkness.
“Put the key on the floor.”
Sophia clutched the brass key.
Alessio pulled her behind him.
The voice spoke again.
“Thomas Bennett is still alive.”
May you like
A laser sight appeared on Alessio's chest.
“And if Sophia wants to keep him that way, she comes with me.”
