Chapter 3 - The Warehouse With a Child's Name on the Wall
Warehouse Nine sat at the end of a condemned pier.
Lorenzo arrived with six men.
Dominic drove.
The storm had worsened.
Snow whipped sideways across the harbor.
Every light in the industrial district seemed dim.
Lorenzo stared at the warehouse.
"Nobody fires unless I say."
Dominic nodded.
"What about Marco?"
"We get him alive."
"And the people inside?"
Lorenzo looked at him.
"If they surrender, they live."
Dominic nodded.
They entered through the rear.
The warehouse was dark.
Empty crates lined the walls.
A single light burned in an office above.
Lorenzo climbed the stairs.
He found no guards.
That worried him.
Then he heard knocking.
Three slow knocks.
From behind a metal door.
Lorenzo opened it.
Marco Falcone was inside.
Alive.
Bruised.
Handcuffed to a chair.
His face looked ten years older.
"Lorenzo."
Lorenzo cut the restraints.
Marco stood and nearly fell.
Dominic caught him.
"Where's Isabella?"
Marco looked at him.
"She's with Sofia."
"No."
Marco shook his head.
"She was."
"Where is she now?"
Marco's face collapsed.
"I don't know."
Lorenzo felt the room go cold.
"Tell me everything."
Marco wiped blood from his mouth.
"Three weeks ago, Isabella disappeared after school."
"I know."
"I followed the trail."
"To Warehouse Nine."
Marco nodded.
"There were people here. They knew she was under Sofia's protection."
"Who?"
"Anthony."
Lorenzo's expression darkened.
"Anthony took Isabella?"
"No."
Marco swallowed.
"Anthony was working for them."
"Who?"
Marco shook his head.
"I never saw the boss."
"Then how?"
"A woman."
"What woman?"
"Rebecca Bell."
The name meant nothing.
"Who is she?"
"Former social worker. Private adoption network."
Lorenzo stared.
"Adoption?"
Marco nodded.
"Not legal adoption."
Silence.
"Children disappear from difficult homes."
"Then get placed with wealthy families."
"Money changes hands."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"How many?"
Marco looked at him.
"Twenty-seven that I know about."
Dominic swore under his breath.
"Why Sofia?"
"Because Sofia was helping the children escape."
"And Isabella?"
"Her mother knew too much."
Lorenzo stared.
"What mother?"
Marco shook his head.
"I don't know."
"What about Emma?"
Marco looked confused.
"Who's Emma?"
Lorenzo's expression changed.
"The five-year-old with Sofia."
Marco's eyes widened.
"Emma is with Sofia?"
"Yes."
Marco thought for a moment.
"Then Sofia must have found another child."
"Another?"
Marco nodded.
"Isabella told me about a little girl named Emma."
"Where was she from?"
"She couldn't remember."
Lorenzo looked at the floor.
"She knows something."
Marco nodded.
Before anyone could speak, a gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
Dominic moved first.
He shoved Marco behind a support beam.
Lorenzo drew his weapon.
Men rushed through the lower doors.
The firefight lasted less than two minutes.
Two attackers fled.
Three surrendered.
One was wounded.
Lorenzo caught the last man before he reached the exit.
He slammed him against the wall.
"Where is Isabella?"
The man spat blood.
"Go to hell."
Lorenzo's voice remained quiet.
"Where is the girl?"
"I don't know."
"Then tell me about Rebecca."
The man went pale.
That was enough.
Lorenzo released him.
"Take him."
Dominic's men dragged him away.
Marco looked at Lorenzo.
"There's more."
"What?"
"Isabella left something for me."
He reached inside his jacket.
A folded piece of paper.
On it was a child's handwriting.
Mr. Marco,
If I disappear, find the girl with the doll.
She knows where Mommy is.
Lorenzo read it twice.
Then he looked at Marco.
"Isabella knew Emma."
Marco nodded.
"And she knew the doll was important."
"Yes."
Lorenzo turned toward the exit.
"Bring me everything on Rebecca Bell."
Dominic looked at him.
"Already moving."
The file arrived within an hour.
Rebecca Bell.
Former caseworker.
No convictions.
No complaints sustained.
Multiple wealthy clients.
Multiple international adoptions.
A pattern.
Children placed with families through private arrangements.
But six cases ended with children disappearing.
One name appeared across five files.
Anthony Russo.
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
Anthony had been with him for nine years.
He had eaten at his table.
Attended funerals.
Carried messages.
Been trusted with money.
And now a five-year-old girl had looked into Lorenzo's eyes and called him bad.
The child had been right.
Lorenzo called Anthony.
"Where are you?"
A pause.
"At home."
"Stay there."
"What happened?"
"Isabella Falcone."
Silence.
Lorenzo hung up.
Then Marco asked,
"Is Anthony yours?"
"Yes."
"Was."
Lorenzo looked at him.
"Was."
At the hospital, Sofia was awake.
She saw Marco enter and began crying.
Marco rushed to her.
"You kept her safe."
Sofia grabbed his hand.
"Not long enough."
"You did what you could."
She looked at Lorenzo.
"Emma."
"She's safe."
"Don't let them take her."
"They won't."
Sofia's face hardened.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
She whispered,
"Emma isn't mine."
Lorenzo frowned.
"She's my sister's daughter."
Marco looked confused.
Sofia continued.
"Isabella is my ward."
"Then who is Emma?"
Sofia closed her eyes.
"She's the daughter of the man who started all of this."
Lorenzo felt a chill.
"Who?"
Sofia looked directly at him.
"Your father."
Silence.
No one moved.
Lorenzo's father had been dead for fifteen years.
The old man's empire had passed to Lorenzo.
Lorenzo had believed he knew everything.
He was wrong.
May you like
Sofia whispered,
"Emma is your half-sister."
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