Chapter 4 - The Price of a Child
“No.”
Elena said it before Matteo could speak.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“Yes, I do.”
She pulled Lily closer.
“You’re not using my daughter.”
Matteo’s voice remained controlled.
“My sister is in that car.”
“And my husband is in a grave.”
Nico stepped between them.
“We need to think.”
Matteo looked at him.
“I am thinking.”
“No. You’re reacting.”
Matteo’s stare hardened.
Nico did not move.
That was why Matteo kept him close.
Very few men could tell him he was wrong and survive the conversation.
Elena said, “If they want Lily, they’re afraid of what she knows.”
“She’s three.”
“She remembered the smell.”
Matteo looked at Lily.
The child was coloring on a scrap of paper Russo had given her.
A house.
Three stick people.
A blue cup.
“Ask her,” Elena said.
“What?”
“What else she remembers about Daniel’s last night.”
Matteo hesitated.
Elena crouched beside her daughter.
“Lily?”
“Yes, Mommy?”
“Do you remember Daddy’s blue cup?”
Lily nodded.
“Who gave it to him?”
The crayon stopped.
Lily thought.
“A man.”
Elena’s breath caught.
“What man?”
“The old man.”
Matteo stepped closer.
“What old man?”
Lily frowned.
“He had shiny hair.”
Vittorio was sixty-eight.
Silver hair.
Always slicked back.
Matteo’s stomach tightened.
Elena asked, “Was he at our house?”
Lily nodded.
“You never told me anyone came over.”
“I was sleepy.”
“What did he do?”
“He talked to Daddy.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did they fight?”
Lily nodded.
Matteo crouched.
“What did the old man say?”
The child stared at him.
Then whispered, “He said Daddy took something.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“What did Daddy say?”
“He said no.”
“What happened next?”
“The old man made tea.”
Silence.
Matteo felt something cold settle into place.
Vittorio had been inside Daniel’s house on the night he died.
Not just connected.
Present.
The phone buzzed.
Another message.
30 MINUTES.
Matteo stood.
Nico asked, “Plan?”
Matteo looked at Elena.
“We go to the estate.”
“No.”
“Not Lily.”
Elena paused.
“What?”
“We leave her with Russo in a secure location.”
“And then?”
“We make them think she’s with us.”
Nico understood.
“Decoy vehicle.”
“Yes.”
Elena studied Matteo.
“You’re willing to risk yourself?”
“My sister is there.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Matteo met her eyes.
Something unspoken passed between them.
“I’m not handing over a three-year-old.”
Elena nodded once.
Trust.
Not much.
But more than before.
Twenty minutes later, Lily was moved with Dr. Russo to a safehouse owned through one of Nico’s old military contacts.
Elena hated every second of leaving her.
Lily cried.
“Mommy!”
Elena hugged her.
“I’ll come back.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Promise?”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Promise.”
Matteo stood near the door.
Lily reached for him.
He hesitated.
Then walked closer.
“Don’t drink coffee,” she told him.
For the first time that day, Matteo smiled.
“I won’t.”
They left.
Two SUVs approached the estate from different roads.
One contained four guards and an empty child seat visible through tinted glass.
The other carried Matteo, Elena, and Nico.
They entered through the old service road near the orchard.
Matteo had grown up on the estate.
He knew every wall.
Every locked gate.
Every place a frightened boy could hide from an angry man.
Vittorio had taught him many of those hiding places.
The irony was not lost on him.
They entered through the wine cellar.
Nico moved first.
Matteo followed.
Elena stayed behind them.
At the top of the stairs, voices.
Two men.
Vittorio’s guards.
Nico dropped the first with a chokehold.
Matteo struck the second hard enough to put him down silently.
Elena stared.
Matteo whispered, “You can still wait here.”
“No.”
They moved.
The estate felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Staff members were gone.
Doors closed.
Security cameras turned away from normal angles.
Someone had taken control.
Matteo entered the library.
Empty.
Dining room.
Empty.
The poisoned coffee still sat on the table inside a sealed evidence bag.
Then a sound.
Clapping.
Slow.
From the upper balcony.
Vittorio DeLuca appeared.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
Perfect posture.
Exactly as Matteo had seen him nearly every day for twenty-five years.
“My boy,” Vittorio said.
Matteo raised his gun.
“Where is Sofia?”
Vittorio sighed.
“This is how you greet family?”
“Where is she?”
“You always were impatient.”
Elena stepped into view.
Vittorio noticed.
His smile faded.
“Mrs. Marlowe.”
Elena stared.
“You know me.”
“I knew your husband.”
“You killed him.”
Vittorio’s eyes stayed calm.
“Did I?”
“You made the tea.”
A shadow crossed his face.
Only for a second.
Matteo caught it.
“Where is Sofia?”
Vittorio nodded toward the ballroom.
“Alive.”
Matteo moved.
Vittorio said, “I wouldn’t.”
He stopped.
“Why?”
“Because there are three men inside with instructions.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
Vittorio descended the staircase.
“You found Daniel’s files.”
“Yes.”
“And the drive?”
Matteo said nothing.
Vittorio smiled.
“Of course.”
“You poisoned me.”
“No.”
Matteo stared.
Vittorio continued.
“I didn’t poison your coffee.”
“Then who?”
“That is the problem.”
“What problem?”
Vittorio reached the last step.
“You think this story is about me.”
Elena said, “My husband wrote your name.”
“Because I met him.”
“The night he died.”
“Yes.”
“You made his tea.”
“No.”
Lily had said the old man made tea.
Elena looked uncertain.
Vittorio saw it.
“The child remembers pieces,” he said. “Not sequence.”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
Vittorio smiled sadly.
“Daniel discovered someone inside our organization was moving illegal compounds. I met him because he contacted me.”
“Why you?”
“Because he did not trust you.”
Matteo flinched.
Vittorio continued.
“He believed someone close to you was involved.”
“Who?”
“I never learned.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I tried to move him and his family that night.”
Elena’s voice broke.
“He died.”
“Yes.”
“After you came.”
“Yes.”
“Who made the tea?”
Vittorio hesitated.
That was enough.
Matteo stepped closer.
“Who?”
Before Vittorio answered, a gunshot exploded from the ballroom.
Elena screamed.
Matteo turned.
“Sofia!”
He ran.
Nico followed.
They crashed through the doors.
Sofia was tied to a chair.
Alive.
One guard lay bleeding on the floor.
Another stood behind her.
Gun pressed against her head.
And beside him stood someone Matteo had never expected.
A woman in a tailored cream suit.
Dark hair.
Calm face.
Marissa.
Elena’s fake recruiter.
She smiled.
“Hello, Matteo.”
Elena stared.
“You.”
Marissa raised a second gun.
“Yes.”
Matteo looked at Vittorio behind him.
“You know her?”
Vittorio’s face had gone pale.
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
Marissa answered for him.
“His daughter.”
Matteo stopped breathing.
Vittorio whispered, “Matteo…”
May you like
Marissa smiled wider.
“And your cousin.”
