Chapter 4 - The Boy Massimo Wouldn’t Abandon
Massimo reached the staircase first.
One of his guards lay unconscious near the front entrance.
The door stood open.
A package sat on the marble floor.
No attacker.
No movement.
Marco approached carefully.
“Bomb squad?”
Massimo shook his head.
“They want us to open it.”
Inside was a child’s red sneaker.
Alessandra recognized it.
Leo owned the matching pair.
Her hands started shaking.
“He was wearing those at preschool yesterday.”
A note rested beneath it.
BRING THE DRIVE.
PIER 17.
NOON.
COME ALONE.
Massimo crumpled the paper.
“No.”
Alessandra stared at him.
“What?”
“You’re not going.”
“They have been inside my apartment.”
“That doesn’t mean they have Leo.”
“They have his shoe.”
“They want you frightened.”
“It worked.”
Massimo looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said, “Good.”
Her face hardened.
“Excuse me?”
“Fear keeps you careful.”
“You really need to work on comforting people.”
“I don’t comfort people.”
From the staircase came Leo’s sleepy voice.
“He comforts me.”
Both adults turned.
Leo stood holding the railing.
Massimo stared at him.
Leo walked down.
“You gave me your jacket.”
Alessandra scooped him up.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“I’m hungry.”
Teresa appeared behind him.
“I tried.”
Leo looked at Massimo’s bruised face.
“Do you have pancakes?”
Massimo glanced at Teresa.
Ten minutes later, the most feared man Alessandra had ever met was standing in a kitchen while a three-year-old demanded dinosaur-shaped pancakes.
Alessandra watched him.
Something dangerous happened inside her.
She began seeing a person.
Not a name.
Not a criminal empire.
A man who checked the windows twice.
A man who positioned himself between Leo and every doorway.
A man who had not removed the ridiculous green Band-Aid.
Massimo noticed her looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was not nothing.”
“Eat your pancake.”
“I don’t eat pancakes.”
Leo gasped.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Massimo seemed genuinely trapped.
Alessandra hid a smile.
Leo pushed half his pancake toward him.
“Try.”
Massimo looked at Alessandra.
She shrugged.
“Apparently you’ve been made an offer you can’t refuse.”
Massimo stared.
Then, impossibly, he laughed.
He ate the pancake.
Leo smiled.
And for thirty seconds, the world became normal.
Then Massimo’s phone rang.
Marco.
Massimo listened.
“Repeat that.”
His eyes moved to Alessandra.
“What?” she asked.
He ended the call.
“Rachel is gone.”
Alessandra stood.
“What do you mean?”
“She left the safe house.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
Massimo showed her security footage.
Rachel walked calmly through a rear exit at 5:13 a.m.
No force.
No pursuit.
She had used a valid security code.
Alessandra’s stomach sank.
“She knew the code?”
“No.”
“Then somebody gave it to her.”
“Yes.”
The traitor was inside Massimo’s organization.
At eleven forty, Alessandra prepared to go to Pier 17.
Massimo argued.
She refused.
Finally he changed tactics.
“You go with me.”
“The note says alone.”
“The note can complain.”
“Massimo—”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“I lost my father. I lost Matteo. I will not stand here while the mother of his child walks into an execution.”
The words stopped her.
“You believe Leo is family.”
“He is.”
“You’ve known him less than twelve hours.”
“Blood does not require an introduction.”
Alessandra looked away.
“That philosophy has caused plenty of wars.”
“Then I’ll use it to end one.”
At Pier 17, Alessandra stepped from the SUV alone.
Massimo’s men remained hidden.
The warehouse looked abandoned.
She carried a decoy drive.
Inside, one chair waited beneath a hanging light.
Rachel sat in it.
Bound.
Bleeding.
“Alessandra!”
She ran toward her.
Rachel shouted, “Stop!”
A red laser appeared on Alessandra’s chest.
She froze.
A speaker crackled.
Vanessa’s voice filled the warehouse.
“Put down the drive.”
Alessandra obeyed.
“Where is Matteo?”
Silence.
Then Vanessa laughed.
“So Massimo told you.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“That depends on whether you want your friend to remain alive.”
Alessandra looked at Rachel.
Rachel shook her head desperately.
“Don’t.”
Vanessa continued.
“Your little audit uncovered something much larger than theft.”
“Then explain it.”
“You think fifty million dollars disappeared.”
“It did.”
“No, Alessandra. It bought something.”
“What?”
“Control.”
Massimo’s voice suddenly came through Alessandra’s hidden earpiece.
“Get down.”
She dropped.
Gunfire erupted.
Massimo’s men entered from three sides.
Rachel screamed.
Alessandra crawled behind machinery.
A masked gunman rushed toward her.
Massimo appeared.
He hit the man with terrifying efficiency.
Seconds later, the warehouse fell silent.
Massimo untied Rachel.
Alessandra grabbed the speaker.
“Vanessa!”
Nothing.
Then a monitor flickered on.
Vanessa appeared.
Behind her sat Matteo Costa.
Alive.
His hands were chained.
His face was bruised.
“Hello, Alessandra,” Vanessa said.
Matteo raised his head.
His eyes filled with tears.
“Ali?”
She stopped breathing.
Only one man had ever called her that.
“Matteo?”
He stared at her through the screen.
Then at Massimo.
“Cousin.”
Massimo stepped closer.
“Where are you?”
Matteo’s face twisted with fear.
“Don’t come looking.”
“Why?”
“Because Vanessa isn’t the one running this.”
Massimo froze.
“Who is?”
Matteo looked beyond the camera.
Someone entered the room behind Vanessa.
May you like
Matteo whispered one name.
“Salvatore.”
