Chapter 5 - The Truth About the Woman I Thought I Was
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because my mind refused to accept reality.
“I’m your niece?”
Dante nodded.
“My biological mother was your sister?”
“Yes.”
“My mother is not my biological mother?”
“She loved you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He gave me a file.
Inside were adoption documents.
The baby’s original name had been Sofia Moretti.
Date of birth.
My date of birth.
Hospital.
The same hospital where I was born.
I read every line.
My hands shook.
“My mother told me I was hers.”
“She raised you.”
“That's not the same thing.”
Dante looked away.
“What happened to my mother?”
“She was killed.”
“And my father?”
“Unknown.”
“Lucas?”
“My brother died protecting the identity of your mother’s child.”
I sat down.
Everything I had believed about my family had been a lie.
My childhood.
My name.
My parents.
Even the reason I had been told my mother hated discussing my birth.
I stared at the documents.
“Why did they hide me?”
“Because your mother had discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
Dante pointed to the old ledger.
“She discovered that our father planned to hand the entire organization to Martin.”
“Why?”
“Because Martin had leverage.”
“What kind?”
“He knew where the money came from.”
“Money from what?”
“Human trafficking.”
I felt sick.
“My family was involved in that?”
“Our father was.”
Dante’s voice was low.
“My sister wanted to expose him.”
“She was killed.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I was seventeen.”
He looked toward the floor.
“I watched them take her.”
My eyes filled.
“Why didn’t you save her?”
His expression shattered.
“Because I was a seventeen-year-old boy surrounded by men with guns.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
“I still blame myself.”
We sat in silence.
Then he gave me another envelope.
“Open it when you’re ready.”
Inside was a letter.
My biological mother’s handwriting.
My hands trembled.
My dearest little Sofia,
If you ever read this, it means I failed to keep you safe.
Evelyn will raise you as her daughter. She will tell you enough to make you feel loved but not enough to make you a target.
Trust no one who tells you blood is stronger than love.
And never trust Martin.
At the bottom was one final sentence.
Your brother Dante will protect you, even if he never knows who you became.
I started crying.
Dante looked away.
“You knew the letter existed.”
“Yes.”
“When did you read it?”
“Years ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were happy.”
“I was dancing in a nightclub and struggling to feed my baby.”
His jaw tightened.
“I said you were alive.”
That sentence broke something inside me.
He had been watching me for months.
Not because I was a target.
Because I was family.
That night, Lily crawled across the living room floor toward Dante.
He froze when she pulled herself upright using his pant leg.
She looked up at him.
He looked down.
Then, awkwardly, he picked her up.
“She likes you.”
“I know nothing about babies.”
“She doesn’t seem concerned.”
For the first time, I saw him smile.
It was brief.
But real.
Then the lights flickered.
Dante’s phone rang.
Martin.
He answered.
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then Martin said:
“With the person you’ve been trying to find.”
Dante stood.
“James.”
I heard the voice through the speaker.
James.
“Dante, listen.”
His voice was weak.
“I’m sorry.”
I stepped forward.
“James?”
Silence.
Then his breathing changed.
“Sophia?”
I took the phone.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t have much time.”
“James, Lily is here.”
He started crying.
“I know.”
“Why did you leave?”
“To keep you alive.”
“You stole my money.”
“I had no choice.”
“You made me hate you.”
“I know.”
“Where are you?”
A crash sounded.
Then Martin’s voice.
“Enough.”
The call ended.
Dante looked at me.
“We go now.”
He gathered his men.
I grabbed his arm.
“What are you going to do?”
“Bring James home.”
“Alive?”
His eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
The location led us to an abandoned printing warehouse.
We found James tied to a chair.
Blood on his lip.
Martin stood behind him.
He held a gun.
And beside him stood a woman.
I recognized her immediately.
Dr. Claire Bennett.
The doctor who had treated me the night I was drugged.
She smiled.
“Hello, Sophia.”
Dante stepped forward.
“Claire.”
She laughed.
“You should have killed me years ago.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Everything.”
She looked at Lily.
“Very clever naming her after our missing little girl.”
I moved in front of my daughter.
“What do you want?”
Claire smiled.
“What Martin has wanted from the beginning.”
She pointed at me.
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because you are the legal heir to everything your biological grandfather owned.”
I stared.
“I don’t want it.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Martin laughed.
“The money belongs to blood.”
He raised his weapon.
Then James shouted.
“Sophia, run!”
The warehouse exploded into chaos.
Dante fired.
The lights shattered.
Men screamed.
I grabbed Lily.
James knocked Martin’s gun away.
Claire ran.
Dante chased her.
Then a second explosion rocked the building.
The ceiling cracked.
I fell.
Lily cried.
James reached for us.
“Sophia!”
The floor gave way.
I felt myself falling.
Then someone grabbed my wrist.
Dante.
He held me with one hand.
With the other, he clung to a steel beam.
“Give me Lily!”
I passed her up.
Dante pulled her to safety.
Then he reached for me.
But before he could pull me over the edge, Martin appeared behind him.
Gun raised.
James tackled Martin.
They disappeared into the smoke.
I screamed.
“James!”
A terrible silence followed.
Then Dante pulled me up.
We crawled out together.
Outside, the warehouse burned.
James was nowhere.
Martin was gone.
And Claire had escaped.
Dante looked at the flames.
“I promised you I’d bring him home.”
I held Lily tightly.
“Then don’t stop looking.”
May you like
He nodded.
“I won’t.”
