Chapter 2 - The Secret Isabella Took to Her Grave
Dante did not remember the drive.
He remembered the sound of tires, Mei clutching Sophia in the back seat, Sophia asking why everyone had guns, and Marco’s voice coming through the radio in broken updates.
The SUV had not been taken.
Not yet.
Enzo had forced it through the blockade, crushing the front fender of one attacker’s sedan and taking a bullet through the shoulder in the process. Mrs. Bell had Sophie on the floorboards under her body. They were headed for the Moretti estate.
Safe.
For the moment.
Dante listened until Marco repeated it twice.
Then he lowered the radio.
Sophia sat across from him.
She no longer looked excited.
She looked six.
“Are we in trouble?”
Dante had faced men with rifles and judges with sealed indictments.
Nothing had ever felt as difficult as answering that question.
“No.”
Mei looked at him sharply.
Dante met her eyes.
“You are not in trouble.”
He spoke to Sophia but meant both of them.
When they reached the estate, the front gates opened before the convoy slowed.
The Moretti mansion sat above the river behind stone walls and cameras disguised as lanterns. To outsiders, it looked elegant. To enemies, it looked impossible.
Sophie was standing in the main foyer.
She wore Sophia’s cream coat, though one sleeve was torn and there was blood on the cuff that belonged to Enzo.
The moment she saw Mei, she ran.
“Mama!”
Mei dropped to her knees.
Sophie crashed into her so hard they both nearly fell.
Dante stopped ten feet away.
Sophia stood beside him.
The room filled with men, nurses, security officers, shouting.
But Dante heard only one thing.
Mama.
Sophie buried her face in Mei’s neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I switched. It was my idea—”
“No, baby.”
“I didn’t know bad people would come.”
“No. No, sweetheart.”
Mei kissed her hair.
Sophia watched.
Then she looked up at Dante.
“Should I call you Daddy?”
The room went silent.
Dante’s throat closed.
He knelt.
Sophia studied him.
“I already do,” she added. “But if she’s me and I’m her, maybe she does too.”
Dante nearly laughed.
Nearly broke.
Instead he said, “We’re going to figure it out.”
Mei looked at him.
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
“No lawyers.”
“Yes.”
“No police.”
Dante’s gaze hardened.
“That depends.”
Mei stood.
“I promised.”
“To whom?”
“The woman who brought Sophie.”
“Who was she?”
“I never learned her real name.”
“Describe her.”
“She was young. Late twenties. Maybe thirty. Dark hair. Nurse’s shoes. Scrubs under a raincoat.”
Dante went completely still.
“Hospital?”
“I don’t know.”
“Which hospital?”
“She came to my apartment in Queens. It was after midnight. There was a storm. She was soaked through.”
Mei’s voice changed as memory took her.
“I had just lost my husband. He’d been dead four months. I was working mornings at a restaurant and nights cleaning offices. I had almost nothing. When I opened the door, she was holding a baby.”
She looked at Sophie.
“A newborn.”
Dante said nothing.
Mei continued.
“She asked if my name was Mei Carter. I said yes. She asked if I had ever wanted children.”
“Why you?”
“She said my husband had saved her brother’s life years before. She said he told her I was good.”
Dante frowned.
“What was your husband’s name?”
“Daniel Carter.”
Something flickered behind Dante’s eyes.
He knew the name.
Not personally.
From somewhere.
Mei saw it.
“You’ve heard of him.”
“Maybe.”
“He was a paramedic.”
Dante stood.
“Marco.”
Marco appeared in the doorway.
“Find everything on Daniel Carter. Employment, calls, hospital records, arrests, debts, associates.”
Mei bristled.
“He was a good man.”
“I’m not accusing him.”
“You investigate everyone like they’re guilty.”
Dante looked at her.
“In my world, the dead keep secrets better than the living.”
Mei’s eyes narrowed.
“That is not something a normal person says.”
“No.”
The girls looked at each other.
Then Sophie whispered, “Are we sisters?”
Neither adult answered.
Sophia reached out.
Sophie took her hand.
Dante stared at their fingers intertwined.
Identical.
Almost.
A doctor arrived twenty minutes later.
Dr. Evelyn Shaw had delivered Sophia’s vaccinations since infancy and had the rare privilege of speaking to Dante without asking permission.
She swabbed both girls.
Then Dante.
Then, at Mei’s insistence, Mei too, though everyone knew what that result would say.
“You’ll have preliminary confirmation in two hours,” Dr. Shaw said.
“Too long,” Dante replied.
“It’s biology, Dante, not room service.”
“Make it one.”
She ignored him.
While they waited, Dante went to Isabella’s old room.
He had not entered it in four years.
After her death, he had preserved it untouched until preservation became another word for punishment. Then he had locked it.
He opened the door.
Dust floated in the afternoon light.
Her perfume was gone.
Her clothes were gone.
But her writing desk remained.
Dante crossed the room and opened every drawer.
Letters.
Receipts.
A ribbon.
A pregnancy book.
He found nothing.
Then Sophia appeared in the doorway.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Dante said.
She shrugged.
“It’s my house.”
Even now, he almost smiled.
Sophie stood behind her.
The sight of two identical girls in Isabella’s doorway nearly took his breath.
Sophie pointed.
“What’s that?”
On the edge of the desk, beneath the decorative molding, was a small silver mark.
Dante crouched.
A latch.
He pressed it.
A hidden panel opened.
Inside was a single envelope.
His name was written on the front.
Dante.
His hands went numb.
Sophia leaned closer.
“Is that Mommy’s writing?”
“Yes.”
He had not heard himself say the word in years.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a page folded twice.
Dante,
If you are reading this, then something went wrong.
There are things I could not tell you because your father was still alive, and because I believed silence was the only way to keep our daughters safe.
Dante stopped.
Our daughters.
The room tipped.
Sophia gripped his sleeve.
He forced himself to keep reading.
I was carrying twins.
Your father knew.
He told me only one child would be allowed to remain in the Moretti line because of an old agreement with the Bellandi family. He said two daughters created two claims, two alliances, two risks.
I thought he was bluffing.
Then Nurse Lena showed me the transfer papers.
One baby was to disappear.
Dante’s vision blurred.
His father.
Vittorio Moretti.
Dead five years.
Buried in marble.
Honored every year.
Dante kept reading.
I made Lena promise me that if they came for one of the girls, she would take the baby somewhere no Moretti soldier would think to look.
Dante, if I die, do not trust the men who say they loved your father.
Do not trust anyone with the wolf.
The paper shook in his hand.
Mei stepped into the room behind the girls.
When she saw the letter, she covered her mouth.
Dante lowered the page.
“The woman who gave you Sophie. Did she have a name?”
“She called herself Lena.”
Silence.
Dante closed his eyes.
Lena.
The nurse.
Alive six years ago.
Maybe alive now.
Dr. Shaw appeared at the door.
Her expression said everything before she spoke.
“Dante.”
He turned.
“The results are conclusive.”
Sophia squeezed Sophie’s hand.
Dr. Shaw looked at both girls.
“They are monozygotic twins.”
Mei began to cry.
Dante did not.
Not yet.
Dr. Shaw continued.
“And both girls are biologically yours.”
Sophia gasped.
Sophie stared up at Dante.
For six years he had believed he had one reason to survive Isabella.
Now two identical faces looked at him.
Sophie’s voice was tiny.
“Does that mean… you’re my daddy too?”
Dante knelt.
He could not speak at first.
So he opened his arms.
Sophie looked at Mei.
Mei nodded through tears.
The child ran to him.
Dante caught her.
Sophia came too.
For one impossible minute, Dante Moretti held both daughters against his chest.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
Dante looked up.
Marco said, “We found Daniel Carter.”
Mei wiped her face.
“My husband?”
Marco nodded.
“He transported a woman from St. Agnes Hospital six years ago on the night Mrs. Moretti died.”
Dante’s grip tightened around the girls.
“Who?”
Marco swallowed.
“Nurse Lena Voss.”
Mei stared.
Marco continued.
“And there’s more.”
He looked at Dante.
“Daniel didn’t die in a random car accident four months later.”
Mei went white.
Marco handed Dante a file.
“The brake line was cut.”
That night, after the DNA results, the twins refused to sleep.
Sophia had dragged three blankets, four pillows, a stuffed horse, and an entire basket of books into the middle of her bedroom.
Sophie stood in the doorway holding the old rabbit from Mei’s bag.
“You have too much stuff,” she said.
Sophia looked offended.
“You have one rabbit.”
“He’s enough.”
The rabbit’s left ear had been repaired with crooked brown thread.
Dante watched from the hall.
Mei stood beside him.
“You bought Sophia all this?”
“Some.”
“Some?”
“Most.”
Mei shook her head.
“Guilt shopping.”
Dante looked at her.
“What?”
“You lost Isabella, so you bought Sophia everything you couldn’t fix.”
He stared.
Mei raised her hands.
“I’m not judging.”
“You’re clearly judging.”
“Only a little.”
Inside the room, Sophia asked, “What’s his name?”
Sophie held up the rabbit.
“Daniel.”
Mei’s face softened.
Dante looked at her.
“After your husband?”
“Yes.”
“She named it?”
“When she was three. I told her the rabbit belonged to Daniel first. She decided that was his name.”
Dante looked at the toy differently.
A dead man he had never met had reached into Sophie’s childhood through a stuffed animal.
There were already people in his daughter’s life whom Dante could never replace.
The realization did not anger him.
It humbled him.
Sophia climbed into bed.
“Which one of us is older?”
Dante glanced at Mei.
Neither knew.
Dr. Shaw, passing with her tablet, stopped.
“According to the hospital metadata I recovered, Sophia was delivered first.”
Sophia lifted both arms in triumph.
“I’m older!”
Dr. Shaw continued.
“By four minutes.”
Sophia froze.
“That counts.”
Sophie climbed into bed beside her.
“Barely.”
“It counts forever.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Dante rubbed his forehead.
Mei smiled.
“That argument may last seventy years.”
“If we’re lucky,” Dante said.
Mei looked at him.
He had not meant to say it aloud.
The room quieted.
Sophia reached for Sophie’s hand beneath the blanket.
“Do you remember being born?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“Then how do we know we’re twins?”
Sophia pointed toward the door.
“Science.”
Sophie nodded, satisfied.
Dante and Mei stepped away to give them space.
In the hallway, Mei said, “You’re taking this better than I expected.”
“I’m not.”
“You look calm.”
“I have killed entire negotiations looking calmer than this.”
She studied him.
“What happens tomorrow?”
“Records. Isabella’s files. Hospital staff. Anyone alive who was in that building.”
“And me?”
Dante answered carefully.
“You stay with Sophie.”
“She’ll want to know you.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll want time.”
“Yes.”
“And Sophia?”
“She stays with me.”
Mei’s brow furrowed.
“That sounds like dividing them again.”
Dante looked toward the bedroom.
Two silhouettes under one blanket.
He had been thinking like a man dividing assets.
One child here.
One there.
Schedules.
Security.
Control.
He hated himself for it.
“You’re right,” he said.
Mei blinked.
“What?”
“You’re right.”
“I heard you. I’m just surprised.”
Dante gave her a flat look.
She smiled.
He continued.
“We don’t separate them unless they want it.”
“That’s better.”
“What if you want to go home?”
“I do.”
His face tightened.
“Not tonight.”
Mei sighed.
“Fine. Not tonight.”
“Tomorrow, we make your apartment secure.”
“You are not turning my building into a bunker.”
“Cameras.”
“No.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Fine.”
Dante nodded.
Mei stared at him.
“Did we just negotiate surveillance?”
“Yes.”
“That is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had.”
From the bedroom came Sophia’s voice.
“DADDY!”
Dante rushed in.
“What?”
Sophia pointed at Sophie.
“She snores.”
Sophie sat up.
“I do not!”
May you like
The crisis lasted ten minutes.
For the first time that day, nobody mentioned wolves.
