Chapter 3 - The Baby in Room 614
Dante stepped forward.
Marco raised both hands.
“Before you do something stupid, look inside.”
Dante looked.
The incubator was empty.
His rage came cold.
“Where are they?”
Marco’s smile vanished.
“You saw Sofia.”
“Where is my wife?”
“Alive.”
“My son?”
“Alive.”
Dante grabbed him.
Luca’s men surrounded the elevator.
Marco did not resist.
“You have thirty seconds.”
“I didn't take them.”
“Twenty-nine.”
“I helped Sofia disappear.”
Dante froze.
Marco looked directly at him.
“The bomb was real. The people hunting her were real. But the death certificate was part of the escape plan.”
Dante glanced toward Reeves, who had followed under guard.
Reeves nodded reluctantly.
“Sofia asked us to convince everyone she was dead.”
Dante released Marco.
“Everyone included me?”
“She believed someone inside your organization was behind the trafficking network.”
“Who?”
“She didn't know.”
“So she let me bury an empty coffin?”
Marco’s expression softened.
“She knew you would tear New York apart looking for her.”
“She was right.”
“And whoever was watching you would know she survived.”
Dante wanted to hit him.
Instead he asked the only question that mattered.
“Where is she?”
Marco hesitated.
Dante stepped closer.
“Don't.”
“I moved her twenty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“Sublevel Two.”
Mara frowned. “The hospital only has one basement.”
“Officially.”
They moved.
Marco explained on the way.
Sofia had discovered the infant-switching operation after reviewing charitable accounts. Somebody was paying hospitals through shell companies connected to Dante’s foundation.
She traced the transactions to St. Catherine’s.
Then she became pregnant.
Threats began.
The bombing forced them to activate an emergency plan.
But something went wrong.
The baby switch had not been part of Sofia’s plan.
“Then whose plan was it?” Dante asked.
“We still don't know.”
The elevator reached the basement.
Marco opened a hidden service panel and entered a code.
Another door unlocked.
A narrow corridor descended beneath the hospital.
At the end stood a private medical room.
Dante entered first.
Sofia was gone.
An incubator remained.
Empty.
On the bed was Sofia’s hospital gown.
Dante picked it up.
Warm.
“They were here,” Mara said.
Marco cursed.
“I left two guards.”
They found one unconscious in a supply closet.
The second was missing.
Dante’s phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Sofia sitting inside a vehicle.
A baby in her arms.
Her eyes were open.
She was alive.
Beneath it:
COME ALONE OR YOU LOSE BOTH.
Then another message.
MIDNIGHT. PIER 47.
Dante checked the time.
11:12.
Forty-eight minutes.
Luca said, “Trap.”
“Obviously.”
“You aren't going alone.”
“They expect me not to.”
Mara suddenly said, “Wait.”
She enlarged the photograph.
“The baby.”
“What?”
“The blanket.”
Cream.
Same blanket.
But around the baby’s ankle was a blue hospital identification band.
Mara zoomed further.
The number was visible.
Dante’s son.
Alive.
His knees almost failed him.
For the first time in nineteen days, hope hurt more than grief.
Marco touched his shoulder.
“We’ll get them back.”
Dante looked at him.
“Who knew about this room?”
“Me. Reeves. Sofia.”
“Anyone else?”
Marco hesitated.
“One person.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Dante stared.
Carlo Valenti had retired from the family business seven years earlier.
He lived quietly in Connecticut.
He had cried at Sofia’s funeral.
He had held Dante afterward and told him family was all they had left.
“Why?”
“Sofia trusted him.”
Dante called his father.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Luca called the Connecticut security team.
Nobody answered.
Marco looked worried.
Then Dante received another message.
Not from the unknown number.
From his father.
SON, IF YOU FOUND SOFIA, DO NOT GO TO PIER 47.
A second message arrived.
MARCO IS LYING.
Dante slowly raised his eyes.
Marco saw his expression.
“What?”
Dante showed him the screen.
Marco went pale.
“That isn't possible.”
“Why?”
“Because your father has been unconscious for three hours.”
Silence.
“What?”
“He was attacked at his house. I didn't tell you because we were dealing with the hospital.”
Dante grabbed his phone.
“Then who sent this?”
A third message appeared.
Dante opened it.
A photograph.
His father tied to a chair.
Alive.
Behind him stood a woman wearing hospital scrubs.
Mara gasped.
“I know her.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Evelyn Shaw. Hospital administrator.”
Dante remembered her.
She had personally comforted him after Sofia’s supposed death.
She had signed the paperwork transferring his newborn into Reeves’ care.
Mara’s face drained.
“She controls the electronic records.”
Every falsified admission.
Every altered medication.
Every missing surveillance recording.
Dante understood.
“Where is her office?”
“Administration wing.”
They ran.
The office was empty.
Computer gone.
Files gone.
A framed photograph remained on the desk.
Dante picked it up.
Hospital charity gala.
Evelyn Shaw stood beside his father.
And beside them stood Sofia.
The photograph was four years old.
Before Dante had ever met his wife.
He turned it over.
Sofia had written something on the back.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, CARLO KNOWS WHY.
Dante stared at Marco.
“You said Sofia trusted my father.”
“She did.”
“Then why is he tied to a chair?”
“Because maybe he finally refused to cooperate.”
“With what?”
Marco didn't answer.
Dante moved closer.
“With what?”
A phone began ringing.
Not Dante’s.
Not Marco’s.
Inside Evelyn Shaw’s desk.
Mara opened the drawer.
A disposable phone vibrated.
Dante answered.
A woman’s voice said, “Mr. Valenti.”
Evelyn Shaw.
“Where is my family?”
“Closer than you think.”
“If you hurt them—”
“I've spent twenty years keeping children alive while men like your father treated them as assets.”
Dante went still.
“My father?”
“You still don't understand what the Valenti Foundation was created to do.”
Dante looked at Marco.
“What is she talking about?”
Marco stared at the floor.
Evelyn continued.
“Ask Marco about the first child.”
“What first child?”
The line went silent.
Dante grabbed Marco by the jacket.
“What first child?”
Marco whispered, “Your brother.”
Dante released him.
“I don't have a brother.”
“Yes, you do.”
Dante stared.
Marco’s voice dropped.
“You had one.”
The office door clicked.
Someone was opening it from the hallway.
Marco turned toward the sound.
His face changed.
“Dante…”
The handle moved.
“Your father never told you what happened to him.”
May you like
The door opened.
And Carlo Valenti stood on the other side.
