Chapter 4 - The Truth Luca Buried
Sophia stared at her mother's face.
Eleven years vanished.
She was twelve again.
Waiting at the bakery window.
Waiting for headlights that never came.
"Mom."
Margaret looked directly into the camera.
"Sophie, don't believe—"
The video cut.
Darkness returned.
Sophia spun toward Luca.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing to her."
"That's not what Vittorio said."
"Vittorio lies."
"So does my father."
Sophia's voice cracked.
"And apparently everyone who claims they're protecting me."
Luca absorbed that without defending himself.
The lights returned.
Marco forced open the chapel doors.
Elena stood outside unharmed.
"We've traced the transmission," Marco said.
"Where?"
"Villa outside Varenna."
Luca started walking.
Sophia followed.
"No."
He turned.
"You're staying here."
"She's my mother."
"It's a trap."
"I know."
"He wants you."
"I know."
"Sophia."
"Luca."
They stared at each other.
Then Elena said, "You're wasting time."
Luca swore softly.
Forty minutes later, two black SUVs approached an abandoned lakeside villa.
Sophia wore a protective vest beneath her coat.
Luca had personally checked every strap.
His hands lingered near her shoulders.
"If anything happens—"
"I stay behind you."
"Good."
"I hate that plan."
"I don't care."
Sophia almost smiled.
"There's the terrifying Mafia boss."
His eyes softened.
"For you, yes."
The words landed harder than either expected.
Neither addressed them.
The villa was empty.
No guards.
No Margaret.
Only a chair.
And another recording.
Luca stopped Sophia before she entered.
"Wires."
A bomb specialist cleared the room.
Nothing.
Sophia approached the screen.
Margaret appeared.
This recording was different.
Older.
Recorded voluntarily.
"Luca, if you're watching this, you kept your promise."
Luca froze.
Sophia looked at him.
Margaret continued.
"You got Sophia here safely."
Sophia's anger faltered.
"I asked Luca to protect you if Vittorio ever returned. He refused at first because he knew what being connected to the Moretti name would cost you."
Sophia looked at Luca.
"You knew."
"Some of it."
"How much?"
"Your mother contacted me six years ago."
Sophia stepped backward.
Six years.
"You knew she was alive."
"Yes."
The word destroyed something.
Sophia slapped him.
The sound echoed through the villa.
Luca didn't move.
Nobody else did either.
"You knew."
"Yes."
"Six years?"
"Yes."
"You let me mourn her."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she made me swear."
"I don't care!"
Sophia hit his chest.
"You don't get to decide that!"
"I know."
"Stop agreeing with me!"
"I don't know what else to say."
"Tell me why!"
Luca looked at the screen.
"Because Vittorio had someone watching you."
Sophia went still.
"Who?"
"We never discovered who."
"So Mom stayed away."
"Yes."
"And you?"
"I watched from a distance."
Sophia stared.
"How?"
"Security around your bakery. Your apartment. Anonymous payments when your father emptied the business account."
Sophia remembered.
The mysterious insurance adjustment.
The landlord who abruptly canceled an eviction.
The supplier who forgave six months of debt.
"You?"
Luca nodded.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because then you would have been connected to me."
"I am connected to you!"
"Now."
His voice hardened.
"Because Vittorio came back."
Sophia turned away.
She wanted to hate him.
It would have been easier.
But every lie Luca told had apparently been designed to keep her away from him.
Not trap her beside him.
That didn't make the lie right.
But it made it different.
The screen continued.
"Sophia, if you're angry with Luca, you should be. I asked too much of him. But understand this: Luca never abandoned me."
Margaret took a breath.
"Arthur did."
Sophia closed her eyes.
"Vittorio discovered I survived three years ago. Since then I've moved constantly."
Margaret leaned toward the camera.
"If he's found me now, the ledger is all that matters."
The recording ended.
Marco entered.
"We found something."
Outside, tire tracks led toward the lake.
Beside them lay a yellow ribbon.
Sophia picked it up.
Her mother's.
Margaret had worn yellow ribbons in the bakery.
Sophia suddenly understood.
"She's leaving a trail."
Luca looked toward the road.
They followed.
Ribbon.
Then another.
Then a flour packet.
Finally, an abandoned warehouse.
Luca's men surrounded it.
Sophia waited inside the SUV.
For three minutes.
Then gunfire erupted.
She ducked.
Marco shouted through the radio.
Luca's voice followed.
"Stay in the car!"
Sophia intended to.
Until she saw the woman running from the warehouse.
Gray-streaked brown hair.
Thin coat.
Bare feet.
"Mom."
Sophia opened the door.
Margaret saw her.
"Sophie!"
Sophia ran.
They collided halfway across the gravel.
Her mother's arms wrapped around her.
Real.
Warm.
Alive.
Sophia sobbed against her shoulder.
"You left me."
"I know."
"You were alive."
"I know."
"I hate you."
"I know."
"I love you."
Margaret broke.
"I love you too."
Luca emerged from the warehouse.
Blood covered one sleeve.
Sophia's heart stopped.
"Luca?"
"Not mine."
Margaret saw him.
For a moment, the older woman and the enormous man simply stared at each other.
Then Margaret crossed the distance and hugged him.
Luca froze.
Sophia saw his face.
The Mafia boss who terrified half of northern Italy looked like a lost twenty-year-old boy.
"You kept her safe," Margaret whispered.
"I tried."
"You did."
Luca's eyes closed.
Only for a second.
Then gunfire cracked.
Luca threw Margaret down.
Sophia screamed.
Marco fired toward the ridge.
A vehicle sped away.
Vittorio had escaped.
Back at the estate, Margaret told them everything.
The ledger existed.
The evidence existed.
But Vittorio had never found it.
"Where?" Sophia asked.
Margaret smiled faintly.
"You already have it."
Sophia frowned.
"The recipes."
Her mother's old recipe book.
Sophia had kept it for eleven years.
In Chicago.
"No," Margaret said.
"The original isn't in Chicago."
"Where?"
Margaret looked at Luca.
"In the Moretti house."
Elena frowned.
"Where?"
"The kitchen."
Sophia almost laughed.
Of course.
They searched until midnight.
Then Sophia remembered Luca's ridiculous gift.
The mixer.
She walked into the kitchen.
An old copper mixing bowl sat on a high shelf.
Inside, etched into the metal, were rows of measurements.
Not recipes.
Numbers.
Codes.
Margaret stared.
"That's it."
They photographed everything.
Marco began decoding it.
Hours later, he entered Luca's study.
"We have names."
"Police?"
"Judges. Customs officers. Three ministers. Business owners."
"And Vittorio?"
"Everything."
Luca exhaled.
"It's enough."
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
Everyone looked at her.
"There's one name missing."
"Whose?"
"The person inside the Moretti family who helped Vittorio."
Elena went pale.
Luca's expression hardened.
"Who?"
Margaret looked toward the study door.
"I never knew."
Then the door opened.
Gabriel entered.
He was holding a gun.
Pointed directly at Margaret.
Sophia stopped breathing.
Gabriel smiled.
May you like
And said:
"You weren't supposed to survive the second time either."
