Chapter 2 - My Wife's Letter Said She Never Abandoned Me—But the First Sentence Also Warned Me That Someone Inside My Organization Had Been Watching SophiaI opened the letter alone.
I didn't let Matteo read it.
I didn't let the director stay.
I didn't even let security enter the room.
Sophia sat outside with a staff member.
I could hear her laughing.
That sound nearly broke me.
I unfolded the paper.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Alina's.
Marco,
If this reaches you, Sophia is finally old enough to understand some of the truth.
I stopped.
My vision blurred.
I continued.
I never left because I stopped loving you.
My throat tightened.
For six years, I had believed exactly that.
She had walked away.
She had taken our daughter.
She had left me with one sentence.
Please don't look for us. Please let her be safe.
I had hated those words.
Now I realized they might have been a warning.
I left because someone told me they would kill Sophia if I stayed.
I closed my eyes.
My hands shook.
The letter continued.
I knew you would come after us.
I knew you would tear the city apart looking for me.
That's why I asked you not to look.
I needed you angry at me.
I stared at the page.
If you hated me, you would stop looking for the real enemy.
I felt sick.
She had sacrificed herself.
Maybe.
Or maybe this was another manipulation.
I had learned long ago never to trust paper simply because someone loved you.
Still, I kept reading.
There is someone inside your organization who has access to everything.
Your movements.
Your finances.
Your security.
Sophia's medical records.
Everything.
Then:
I don't know how many are involved.
But I know one person helped me disappear.
The next line was underlined.
Do not accuse him until you have proof.
I stopped.
There was no name.
Only a blank space.
Then:
He believes he is protecting you.
I stared.
Who could that be?
Matteo?
Possibly.
Someone else?
Maybe.
The letter continued.
When Sophia is old enough, she will tell you what she remembers. Believe her when she tells you what she saw.
I swallowed.
Then the final paragraph:
Marco, our daughter has spent years believing she was forgotten.
Please don't let her learn that she was wrong twice.
I cried.
I didn't care.
I put the letter down.
For six years, I had been telling myself I had lost everything.
I had not.
My daughter was alive.
She had been living less than an hour from me.
She had been placed in an orphanage under another name.
And my wife had known I would eventually find her.
I walked outside.
Sophia saw me.
She smiled.
I crouched.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Your mommy.”
She looked down.
“What do you remember?”
“My mommy loved you.”
My chest tightened.
“What else?”
“She said Daddy was strong.”
“What did she mean?”
“She said you would come.”
“When?”
“Someday.”
I touched her hair.
“Did she ever tell you why you were here?”
Sophia nodded.
“Because bad people were looking.”
“Who?”
She frowned.
“Men.”
“What men?”
“Men with black cars.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did they hurt your mother?”
She looked down.
“She cried.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
“They took Daddy's papers.”
My blood froze.
“Daddy's papers?”
She nodded.
“Mommy said they couldn't have them.”
“What papers?”
“I don't know.”
She looked at me.
“But Uncle Matteo helped.”
Silence.
I slowly turned.
Matteo was standing near the hall.
My daughter smiled at him.
“Uncle Matteo.”
He looked destroyed.
I walked toward him.
“What did you help with?”
“Marco.”
“What did you help with?”
“I got them out.”
“Who?”
“Alina and Sophia.”
“You knew where they were.”
“Yes.”
I felt the room spin.
“For six years?”
“I couldn't tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because Alina asked me not to.”
“You let me believe my daughter was dead.”
“I believed she was safer.”
I grabbed his collar.
Sophia screamed.
I released him.
I looked at my daughter.
“I'll explain later.”
She nodded.
Matteo straightened his jacket.
“I never betrayed you.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
He hesitated.
“Alina found something.”
“What?”
“She discovered money moving through your organization.”
I stared.
“What kind?”
“Millions.”
“From where?”
“Your own companies.”
I froze.
“Who?”
“People inside.”
“Names.”
“I couldn't prove them.”
“You had six years.”
“I was protecting Alina.”
My anger returned.
“You were protecting her while I buried her.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't she contact me?”
“Because she believed the person behind it would use you to find her.”
“Who?”
Matteo looked toward Sophia.
Then whispered:
“Your uncle.”
My blood went cold.
“My uncle is dead.”
“That's what everyone thinks.”
I stared.
The Moretti family had always been complicated.
But my mother had two brothers.
One died before I was born.
The other vanished twenty-five years ago.
His name was Victor Vitelli.
The family said he had gone overseas.
No one knew where.
Matteo said:
“Victor was alive.”
“What did he want?”
“Control.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
My phone rang.
Private investigator.
I answered.
“Boss.”
“Talk.”
“We found something in the old records.”
“What?”
“Your uncle's name appears in several shell companies.”
I felt cold.
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
“How old are the companies?”
“Some were created twenty years ago.”
I looked at Sophia.
Then Matteo.
“Any connection to Sophia?”
“Yes.”
My pulse accelerated.
“How?”
“One company made payments to St. Margaret's.”
I closed my eyes.
The orphanage.
Someone had been funding the place where my daughter lived.
Not me.
Victor.
Why?
The investigator continued.
“There was another payment.”
“To Daniel Mercer.”
My attorney.
I looked at Matteo.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“A private medical facility received regular payments for a patient under the name Lily Moretti.”
“What facility?”
A prestigious clinic.
One of the most expensive in Chicago.
I knew the name.
It had treated members of my organization.
I ended the call.
I looked at my daughter.
Someone had been monitoring her.
Paying for her care.
Tracking her.
That meant she wasn't abandoned.
She was hidden.
Protected.
But by whom?
Matteo finally spoke.
“Alina wasn't running from you.”
“Then who?”
He whispered:
“Everyone.”
My phone rang again.
This time, a message.
A photograph.
Alina.
Alive.
Standing outside a church.
Taken two days earlier.
Under the image:
SHE KNOWS YOU FOUND SOPHIA.
Then another message.
COME ALONE.
I looked at Matteo.
He immediately shook his head.
“Don't go.”
“Why?”
“Because if Alina contacted you, someone wants you to think she did.”
I stared at the photograph.
My wife was alive.
For six years, I had dreamed of that moment.
May you like
Now that it had arrived—
I was terrified.
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