Chapter 5 - Sofia’s Perfect Lie
We returned to New York together.
Not as husband and wife.
Not even as allies.
As two parents following the trail of a dead child.
I refused to stay at the Moretti estate.
Vincent surprised me by not arguing.
He put me in a secure townhouse near Central Park.
I complained about the word put.
He changed it to arranged.
I told him that was not better.
For one second, he almost smiled.
Then neither of us remembered how.
Evelyn was brought to the Moretti Group headquarters at nine the next morning.
Not the family home.
Vincent wanted neutral ground.
Neutral, in his world, meant a forty-seventh-floor conference room controlled by armed security.
I sat opposite her.
Vincent beside me.
Finn near the door.
Evelyn looked at the memory card on the table.
Then at me.
“You found it.”
No denial.
Vincent’s face hardened.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
The simplicity made me sick.
“You knew Luca used Noah.”
“Yes.”
Vincent stood.
Finn shifted.
I grabbed Vincent’s sleeve.
He stopped.
Barely.
Evelyn watched him.
“I told Luca not to involve the child.”
“You financed him,” Vincent said.
“For reasons you don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Evelyn’s shoulders straightened.
“Your father built Moretti Group with men who believed violence was business.”
“I know who my father was.”
“No.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“You know the version we allowed you to inherit.”
Vincent stared.
Evelyn told us the truth in pieces.
Salvatore Moretti had not merely been a criminal businessman.
During Vincent’s childhood, he had run weapons through ports with Luca’s father.
After Salvatore’s death, Vincent shut many of those routes.
Evelyn feared old partners would retaliate.
So she secretly continued paying Luca to keep them satisfied.
Protection money disguised as logistics fees.
Vincent looked disgusted.
“You undermined me for five years.”
“I kept you alive.”
“You funded the man stealing from me.”
“I funded stability.”
“You funded weapons.”
“I funded peace.”
I laughed.
Both looked at me.
“Sorry.”
My voice shook.
“It’s just impressive hearing murder explained as accounting.”
Evelyn ignored that.
“The files Luca placed in Noah’s backpack were leverage. He believed I intended to cut him off.”
“So he used Noah to blackmail you,” Vincent said.
“Yes.”
“And Noah fell.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Evelyn looked at me.
I wanted to look away.
I did not.
“Luca met him beyond the south gate. Noah became frightened when he realized his father wasn’t there. He tried to run back.”
My nails dug into my palms.
“He slipped on the stone slope.”
I pictured it.
My child.
Calling for his father.
A strange man behind him.
Falling.
“Luca carried him to the road.”
Evelyn continued.
“He said Noah stood afterward.”
“So you decided he was fine.”
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“You made several choices.”
She looked at me.
“You deleted footage.”
“Yes.”
“You changed the groundskeeper’s statement.”
“Yes.”
“You stopped me taking Noah to a hospital.”
Her face finally broke.
“Yes.”
“And then you made me kneel for seven days.”
Silence.
Vincent turned to her slowly.
Even he had not connected everything.
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
“The council demanded someone answer for the death.”
“So you chose Elena,” Vincent whispered.
“They could not know about Luca.”
“Why?”
“Because it would have exposed the network.”
Vincent laughed once.
A terrible sound.
“You punished my wife to protect your crimes.”
“I protected the family.”
“There was no family left after Noah died.”
Evelyn flinched.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, I felt tired.
“So why was Sofia in Iceland with Luca?” I asked.
Evelyn’s eyes moved away.
There.
Another secret.
Vincent saw it.
“Mom.”
“Sofia did not know the full operation.”
“What did she know?”
Evelyn stayed silent.
Vincent’s voice lowered.
“What did Sofia know?”
“She knew Luca was in Iceland.”
He shut his eyes.
Of course.
“She arranged the trip.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn looked at me.
I understood before Vincent.
“Sofia wanted to see Luca.”
Evelyn nodded.
Vincent’s face emptied.
I almost pitied him.
For years he believed Sofia needed him.
Sofia was frightened.
Sofia was lonely.
Sofia had been followed.
Sofia wanted to see the northern lights.
But the trip had been cover.
Vincent was not her romantic companion.
He was camouflage.
Sofia used the most feared man on the East Coast to travel safely to meet an exiled lover.
“What was Luca to her?” I asked.
Evelyn answered.
“More than an old boyfriend.”
Vincent stared.
“What?”
“They resumed their relationship two years ago.”
Silence.
I looked at Vincent.
For years, he had neglected me partly because he believed Sofia loved him.
Or at least needed him.
Meanwhile Sofia had been secretly involved with Luca.
Vincent sat slowly.
“Two years.”
“Yes.”
“She called me every time she was frightened.”
“She knew you would come.”
“She interfered with my marriage.”
Evelyn did not answer.
He looked at me.
Shame crossed his face.
I said nothing.
This part was his to survive.
Vincent whispered, “She told me Elena resented Noah taking my attention.”
My stomach turned.
“What?”
He looked sick.
“Sofia said you were depressed after childbirth.”
“I was tired.”
“I know.”
“She said you regretted the marriage.”
“I regretted being invisible.”
“I know.”
No, he had not.
Not then.
Vincent stood.
“Bring Sofia.”
Finn hesitated.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“She’s missing.”
The room went silent.
“When?”
“Since last night.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Vincent saw.
“You knew.”
“She called me.”
“From where?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she say?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“She said Luca was coming back for her.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“Then she knows where he is.”
Finn was already moving.
Within an hour, every Moretti-connected airport, marina, hotel, casino, and club on the East Coast had Sofia’s photograph.
Vincent’s organization woke like a machine.
I watched from the townhouse.
It used to impress me.
Now it frightened me.
One man should not have that much reach.
But for once, Vincent was not using it to collect debts or frighten rivals.
He was hunting the people who had used his son.
Around noon, pain returned.
I dropped a glass.
It shattered.
Vincent entered the kitchen seconds later.
He saw me gripping the counter.
“Hospital.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I said no.”
“You’re slurring.”
I froze.
He was right.
My tongue felt wrong.
Heavy.
The left side of my hand tingled.
Fear finally broke through stubbornness.
Vincent saw it.
This time when he reached for me, I let him.
The seizure began in the car.
I remember his voice.
Nothing else.
When I woke, Boston was outside the window.
Not New York.
Boston.
Vincent had moved me to the neurosurgical center while I was unconscious.
I should have been furious.
I was too weak.
A woman stood at the end of the bed.
Dr. Miriam Chen.
The surgeon Arnett mentioned.
She spoke directly.
“I reviewed everything.”
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
Vincent flinched beside me.
Dr. Chen continued.
“But not hopeless.”
I stared.
“You can operate?”
“Yes.”
“Will I survive?”
“I believe the operation is technically possible.”
“Not what I asked.”
Her expression remained calm.
“There is significant risk.”
“How much time without it?”
“Weeks.”
“With it?”
“If we can remove enough and your tumor has favorable molecular markers, potentially much longer.”
Vincent asked, “Years?”
“Possibly.”
I laughed weakly.
He looked at me.
“What?”
“First Noah dies. Then I discover your family helped kill him. Now apparently I might not die on schedule.”
Dr. Chen wisely left.
Vincent remained.
I looked toward the window.
“I don’t know if I want surgery.”
He said nothing.
That surprised me.
I looked at him.
“You’re not going to order me?”
“No.”
“You could probably buy the hospital.”
“Possibly.”
“That was a joke.”
“I know.”
Silence.
Then he said, “I want you to live.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why?”
“Elena.”
“Answer.”
His voice became quiet.
“Because I love you.”
I opened my eyes.
“No.”
He swallowed.
“You loved Sofia.”
“I thought I did.”
“You married me because of a debt.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
“I told my mother I loved Sofia.”
“Yes.”
“And I believed it.”
I stared.
He continued.
“But love should survive truth.”
“What does that mean?”
“When Noah was born, I stopped imagining a life without you.”
My breath caught.
“I didn’t understand what changed.”
He looked ashamed.
“I kept running to Sofia because that was who I had always been with her. Protector. Brother. Something confused between those things.”
His jaw tightened.
“But when I was away, I called home to hear your voice.”
“You called Noah.”
“And asked whether you were there.”
I remembered.
He had.
“When I came back from trips, I looked for you first.”
“You looked for Noah.”
“I looked for both of you.”
He moved closer.
“I was too arrogant to understand that the life I actually loved was the one I kept treating as guaranteed.”
My eyes burned.
“That isn’t romantic.”
“No.”
He nodded.
“It’s shameful.”
I looked away.
He did not ask forgiveness.
That mattered.
“I don’t know whether I love you anymore,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“And if I survive, I still want the divorce.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
“You are not allowed to turn my surgery into a second chance.”
“I know.”
I looked back at him.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because for once, this isn’t about what I want.”
That night Finn called.
They found Sofia.
She was at a private marina in Connecticut.
May you like
And she was not alone.
Luca Santoro had returned.
