Chapter 6 - The Man Who Came Back From the Dead
Three days passed.
James was presumed dead.
No body was found.
Martin vanished.
Claire disappeared.
The police questioned everyone.
Dante refused to answer most questions.
I stopped asking.
I spent those days with Lily.
And strangely, with Dante.
The terrifying man everyone feared had started learning how to warm bottles.
He googled lullabies.
He bought a ridiculous number of stuffed animals.
He even assembled a crib backward.
“You put the side panel upside down,” I said.
“I noticed.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I was allowing you to notice.”
I laughed.
He smiled.
It felt wrong.
And somehow right.
Then an envelope arrived.
No stamp.
No sender.
Inside was James’s wedding ring.
My heart stopped.
Under it was a note.
MIDNIGHT.
OLD TRAIN STATION.
COME ALONE.
I showed Dante.
“No.”
“I’m going.”
“Absolutely not.”
“He’s alive.”
“We don't know that.”
“You know it too.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’ll go with you.”
The station was abandoned.
Dante kept his promise.
We entered through a side door.
James stepped out of the darkness.
Alive.
Barely.
I covered my mouth.
“Oh my God.”
He looked at Lily.
His eyes filled with tears.
“I missed her.”
I wanted to hit him.
Hug him.
Scream.
Instead, I whispered, “Why?”
“Because Martin said he’d kill you.”
“You could have told me.”
“He had someone inside your building.”
“Who?”
He looked at Dante.
“Martin’s daughter.”
Dante stiffened.
“What?”
“She worked at the apartment complex.”
Everything clicked.
The surveillance.
The photographs.
The access.
James continued.
“She helped Martin track Sophia.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Martin killed her when he realized she wanted out.”
James sat down.
“He became obsessed with the inheritance.”
“The money.”
“Yes.”
“What inheritance?”
“Your biological grandfather built an offshore empire worth hundreds of millions.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t want it.”
“You don’t have to.”
James looked at Dante.
“But Martin believes you do.”
Dante asked, “Where is Claire?”
James swallowed.
“She has the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The one Evelyn stole.”
My mother’s ledger.
The proof of everything.
“Where?”
James looked at me.
“She took it to a woman named Rebecca Vale.”
Dante went still.
“Rebecca?”
James nodded.
“Your father’s attorney.”
Dante’s eyes darkened.
“She died ten years ago.”
“No.”
James shook his head.
“She’s alive.”
We returned to the city.
Rebecca was hiding in a lakeside mansion under another name.
When we entered, she was waiting.
An old woman in a white suit.
“You’re late.”
Dante pointed a gun.
“Where is the ledger?”
Rebecca smiled.
“Still thinking like your father.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“You’re exactly like him.”
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“I’m exactly like my sister.”
Rebecca’s smile faded.
She looked at me.
“And you must be Sofia.”
I nodded.
“You have her eyes.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
She handed me a box.
Inside was the ledger.
I opened it.
Names.
Payments.
Dates.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officers.
Businessmen.
And finally, one name that shocked me.
James Mitchell.
I looked at him.
“You were part of this.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“My name was used.”
Rebecca nodded.
“James was recruited by Martin, but he secretly recorded everything.”
“Then why didn’t he go to the police?”
“Because half the police names are in that book.”
I turned the pages.
Dante’s name appeared once.
Under it:
TARGET.
My breath caught.
Rebecca explained.
“Your biological father was never identified.”
“Why?”
“He was an undercover federal informant.”
I looked at Dante.
He already knew.
“I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it could put you in danger.”
“More than this already has?”
“No.”
That answer hurt.
A phone rang.
Rebecca looked down.
Her smile disappeared.
“Martin.”
She answered.
His voice came through.
“You should have given me the ledger.”
Rebecca said nothing.
Then Martin spoke again.
“I have Lily.”
My blood froze.
“No.”
Dante snatched the phone.
“Touch her and I kill you.”
Martin laughed.
“You’re going to kill the man who raised you?”
Dante went still.
“What did you say?”
“I said your father isn't the only secret in that family.”
The line went dead.
I turned to Dante.
“Who raised you?”
He looked at me.
Then at James.
James whispered.
“He meant Lucas.”
“What about Lucas?”
Dante’s face went pale.
“He may not have died in the explosion.”
Silence.
The ledger had one final page.
A handwritten sentence.
LUCAS MORETTI SURVIVED.
I stared.
My uncle might be alive.
May you like
And Martin had Lily.
We had been looking in the wrong direction the entire time.
