Chapter 4 - The Night Sofia Died
Dominic moved before I could react.
“Stay with the children.”
He disappeared into the hall.
Another gunshot cracked through the mansion.
I ran to Leo’s room.
Lily was awake.
Leo stood beside the window.
“Down,” I said.
They obeyed.
I locked the door.
Outside, footsteps pounded along the corridor.
Then the backup lights turned on.
A faint red glow filled the room.
Lily started crying.
I held her.
Leo moved closer too.
For several minutes, we heard nothing.
Then Dominic’s voice came through the door.
“Claire.”
I opened it.
There was blood on his shirt.
My stomach dropped.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Whose blood?”
“Anthony’s.”
“Is he—”
“Alive.”
He looked at Leo.
“Go to the safe room with Lily.”
Leo nodded.
Dominic had clearly taught him what to do during emergencies.
That realization hurt in ways I could not explain.
Children should know fire drills.
Not armed-intruder procedures.
A guard escorted them away.
Dominic turned to me.
“Someone entered through the service corridor.”
“Marco?”
“We don’t know.”
“Where’s Anthony?”
“Being treated downstairs.”
“And the box?”
“Gone.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Someone took it during the blackout.”
“The letter too?”
“No.”
He reached inside his jacket.
Sofia’s envelope.
“You kept it.”
“I took it when the lights died.”
A small relief.
“Do you think Marco knew we found the room?”
“Someone did.”
We returned to the study.
Dominic locked the door.
He set Sofia’s letter on the desk.
Inside were three pages.
The first was addressed to him.
Dominic read silently.
I watched his expression harden.
“What does it say?”
He handed it to me.
Dominic,
If you are reading this, something happened before I could tell you myself.
The missing money is real.
But money is not the reason I am afraid.
Marco has been meeting with men from the Cavalli organization without your knowledge.
Evan confirmed it.
I do not yet know what he promised them.
I only know he asked questions about your airport schedule, your vehicles, and the security changes for Thursday night.
I made a copy of the financial ledger.
Evan has another.
I have asked him to protect Claire if this goes wrong.
She knows nothing.
Do not punish her for his choices.
And Dominic, if something happens to me, do not let Leo believe it was an accident.
My hands went cold.
I looked up.
Dominic stood motionless.
Thursday night.
The night Sofia died.
“You were supposed to go to the airport?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“Leo had a fever.”
I stared at him.
“You stayed home because of Leo.”
“Yes.”
“And Sofia took your car.”
“Yes.”
The meaning was horrific.
The wrong Moretti died.
Marco had not simply used cruel words around Leo.
He may have known exactly what they meant.
Dominic turned away.
“I should have seen it.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I built the security system he used.”
“You didn’t kill her.”
“My brother may have.”
His voice broke around the final word.
That was the first time Dominic Moretti looked truly afraid.
Not of Marco.
Of the truth.
I unfolded the second page.
It was addressed to Evan.
Evan,
If Dominic survives, give him the ledger.
If he does not, take Claire and leave Boston.
Do not trust Marco.
Do not trust anyone who claims the family wants to protect you.
I know you said Claire would never forgive you for hiding this from her.
You are probably right.
But alive and angry is better than buried beside me.
I stopped reading.
A pressure built behind my eyes.
Dominic watched me.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew I was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And Sofia told him to take me away.”
“Yes.”
“But Dominic survived.”
“He should have gone to me.”
“Instead he vanished.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Apparently every man in my life thinks protecting women means refusing to tell them anything.”
Dominic accepted that without defending himself.
Good.
I read the last page.
It contained an address.
An abandoned storage facility near the docks.
And four words.
THE ORIGINAL IS HERE.
“The ledger,” I said.
Dominic looked at the address.
“Maybe.”
“You’re going.”
“Yes.”
“So am I.”
“No.”
I almost laughed.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“There was a shooter in this house tonight.”
“My missing husband is tied to your dead wife’s investigation.”
“And that makes you a target.”
“It makes me involved.”
His jaw tightened.
“Claire.”
“Dominic.”
For a moment we stared at each other.
Then, unexpectedly, his mouth almost twitched.
“You’re impossible.”
“I have a three-year-old. You develop resistance.”
He looked toward the door.
“Fine.”
I blinked.
“That was easier than expected.”
“You’re not coming inside.”
“Ah.”
“You stay in the car with two guards.”
“That negotiation still needs work.”
“It’s finished.”
At two in the morning, we arrived at the storage facility.
Dominic brought six men.
I stayed in the SUV.
For seven minutes.
Then gunfire erupted inside.
One of my guards jumped out.
“Stay here.”
Of course I did not.
I ran after him.
Inside, rows of metal storage cages stretched into darkness.
Dominic was crouched behind a concrete column.
“Claire!”
“I know. Bad idea.”
“You think?”
A man ran across the far end.
Anthony, despite his wound, had apparently insisted on coming.
He tackled him.
Another figure emerged.
Dominic raised his weapon.
“Stop.”
The man froze.
I recognized his posture before his face.
“Evan.”
He turned.
My husband looked older.
Thinner.
A scar ran along one cheek.
But it was him.
For four years I had imagined this moment.
In some versions I hit him.
In others I hugged him.
In reality, I simply stood there.
He looked at me like a man seeing a ghost.
“Claire.”
I walked toward him.
Dominic moved to stop me.
I held up a hand.
“No.”
Evan’s eyes filled.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s your opening line?”
“I can explain.”
“You had four years.”
“I was being watched.”
“You broke into my apartment.”
“I needed to warn you.”
“You could have called.”
“They trace calls.”
“You texted.”
“That phone was disposable.”
“Congratulations.”
He flinched.
Good.
Dominic approached.
“Where’s the ledger?”
Evan’s eyes turned cold.
“You don’t deserve it.”
Dominic stopped.
“My wife died for it.”
“My partner died for it.”
“What partner?”
“A federal investigator.”
Everything shifted.
“You were working with the FBI?” I asked.
Evan nodded.
“After Sofia found the money, she wanted proof Marco was working with the Cavallis. I had a contact. We started building a case.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“You brought federal agents into my family?”
“Sofia asked me to.”
“You could have told me.”
“She didn’t trust your temper.”
That hit.
Dominic said nothing.
Evan looked at me.
“When Sofia died, the investigator helping us disappeared too. I knew Marco would come after me next.”
“So you abandoned us.”
“If I stayed, you would have died.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
He pulled a photograph from his pocket.
It showed me leaving a hospital.
Pregnant.
A red circle had been drawn around my head.
Another circle around my belly.
On the back were two words.
LEVERAGE. EVAN.
My anger became something colder.
“Who had this?”
“Marco.”
Dominic’s face changed.
Evan continued.
“He wanted the ledger. He threatened you. I told him I’d left Boston with it.”
“But you stayed.”
“Long enough to hide it.”
“Where?”
Evan looked at Dominic.
“You tell me something first.”
“What?”
“Did Marco confess?”
“No.”
“Then we still need proof.”
“We have Sofia’s letter.”
“Not enough.”
Evan walked toward a storage locker.
He entered a code.
The door lifted.
Inside was a small safe.
He opened it.
Empty.
Evan froze.
“No.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“What?”
“It was here.”
“The ledger?”
“And Sofia’s recording.”
“What recording?”
Evan turned pale.
“She recorded Marco the night before she died.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Who else knew this location?”
“Only Sofia and me.”
Dominic shook his head.
“Sofia told someone.”
“No.”
“She wrote the address.”
Evan stared.
“To who?”
“Claire.”
His eyes snapped toward me.
“What?”
I explained the letter.
Evan’s face drained.
“She never wrote that.”
The room went silent.
“What do you mean?”
“Sofia never addressed anything to Claire.”
Dominic’s gaze hardened.
“How do you know?”
“Because I wrote the emergency instructions with her.”
A cold realization moved through me.
The letter we found had been altered.
Someone wanted us here.
Anthony suddenly shouted from the entrance.
“Movement!”
The lights shut off.
Again.
Dominic grabbed my arm.
“Down.”
A phone began ringing inside the empty locker.
Not mine.
Not Dominic’s.
A cheap burner phone sat on the floor.
Its screen glowed.
DOMINIC MORETTI.
Dominic answered.
Marco’s voice came through the speaker.
“Brother.”
Dominic’s eyes went black.
“Where are you?”
Marco laughed softly.
“Ask the housekeeper where her daughter is.”
My blood stopped.
I grabbed my phone.
No signal.
Dominic turned toward Anthony.
“Call the house.”
Anthony tried.
His face changed.
“No answer.”
The burner phone crackled.
Then Marco whispered, “You should have left the dead buried.”
A child began crying in the background.
I knew that cry.
“Lily!”
May you like
The line went dead.
And from the other end of the warehouse, someone screamed Leo’s name...
