Chapter 6 - The Night We Went to Trade Ourselves for Leo
Dante wanted to attack Warehouse Twenty-Seven with thirty armed men.
I wanted Leo alive.
Those goals were not necessarily compatible.
We argued for forty minutes.
At one point Camila left the room, returned with coffee, and announced that she had never seen anyone tell Dante no this many times while remaining conscious.
I considered that a compliment.
“He has my son,” Dante said.
“And expects you to react emotionally.”
“I am emotional.”
“Exactly.”
Dante stared.
I held up the blue bird necklace.
“This was left in Leo’s room.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To prove they were inside.”
“No.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“The note already proves that.”
I placed the necklace on the table.
“This means something.”
Camila sat.
“Lucia’s.”
“Yes.”
Dante frowned.
“Thomas had access to it after Sofia’s crash.”
“Maybe.”
I turned the pendant.
A tiny seam.
“Did anyone ever open this?”
Camila stared.
“No.”
Dante took it.
Pressed.
Nothing.
I used a butter knife.
He looked offended.
“What?”
“You’re using silverware on evidence.”
“I’m poor. We improvise.”
The back popped open.
Inside was a tiny strip of paper.
Coordinates.
Dante stared.
“Where?”
Camila entered them into a map.
“Warehouse district.”
I leaned closer.
“Not Twenty-Seven.”
“No.”
“Warehouse thirty-one.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“That building is abandoned.”
“Owned by?”
“City.”
I smiled grimly.
“Then maybe Leo isn’t at Twenty-Seven.”
Dante looked at me.
“Decoy exchange.”
“Exactly.”
Thomas wanted us at Twenty-Seven while something important happened at Thirty-One.
Or Leo was at Thirty-One.
We contacted no police.
Dante did not trust them.
Fair.
He used only six people he trusted completely.
Camila insisted on coming.
Dante refused.
She came anyway.
Apparently stubbornness was a Moretti genetic disease.
The plan:
Camila’s team watched Twenty-Seven.
Dante and I went toward Thirty-One.
I hated being bait.
I hated more sitting home.
Before leaving, Dante stopped me in the garage.
“You can still stay.”
“So can you.”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
He looked at me.
“If something happens—”
“Don’t.”
“Elina.”
“No dramatic speeches.”
His jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Because I’m already scared.”
That softened him.
He stepped closer.
“So am I.”
I looked up.
“Good.”
His mouth almost curved.
“You sound like Sofia.”
I stiffened.
He shook his head.
“No.”
Dante touched my cheek.
“She never admitted fear.”
My chest tightened.
“You do.”
Silence.
Then he kissed me.
Not dramatically.
Not like a mafia romance fantasy.
Soft.
Brief.
Almost hesitant.
That shocked me more than anything.
Dante pulled away.
“I should not have done that.”
“No.”
“Sorry.”
I stared.
“Do it again.”
He did.
Longer.
My hands caught his shirt.
His arm wrapped around my waist.
For several seconds, kidnappings, murder ledgers, dead sisters, and family conspiracies disappeared.
Then my phone vibrated.
Reality.
I pulled away.
“That timing is offensive.”
Dante almost laughed.
Message.
A photograph of Leo crying in a dark room.
My heart stopped.
Below:
11:30. YOU’RE LATE.
Dante’s face became stone.
“Move.”
Warehouse Thirty-One smelled like rust and river water.
We entered through a side door.
One guard unconscious outside.
Not ours.
Dante’s.
Someone else had already entered.
We heard shouting.
Then a baby crying.
I ran.
Dante grabbed me.
“Wait.”
“That’s Leo.”
“I know.”
“He’s crying.”
“I know.”
His hand shook.
We moved carefully.
Around the corner, Thomas Vellaro stood under industrial lights.
Seventy.
White hair.
Immaculate coat.
Gianni sat tied nearby.
Alive.
Leo was in the arms of a woman.
Older.
Thin.
Dark hair streaked gray.
She looked at me.
My knees nearly gave out.
Lucia.
My mother.
She held Leo protectively.
Thomas held a gun against her side.
“Well.”
He smiled.
“The family arrives.”
Dante raised his weapon.
Thomas pressed the gun closer.
“No.”
Dante stopped.
I stared at Lucia.
She cried.
“Lina.”
My chest broke.
“Mom.”
Thomas smiled.
“Very touching.”
I looked at him.
“You killed Sofia.”
His expression remained calm.
“No.”
“You ordered Marco.”
“Yes.”
“Same thing.”
“Legally debatable.”
Dante’s gun lifted slightly.
Thomas sighed.
“Always violent.”
“You kidnapped my son.”
“You brought this upon yourself.”
“Interesting defense.”
Leo saw me.
He reached.
My entire body moved instinctively.
Thomas noticed.
“Remarkable.”
He looked between Lucia and me.
“Same effect as Sofia.”
“Give him to me.”
“No.”
“Thomas.”
Lucia held Leo tighter.
Thomas said, “The drive.”
Dante handed me the flash drive.
I held it up.
“Gianni first.”
Thomas laughed.
“You think you negotiate?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Leo.
“Because you need me alive.”
His smile faded slightly.
“The bank box.”
“Yes.”
“You know.”
“I know everything except the code.”
I looked at Gianni.
“That means you need both of us.”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re smarter than Sofia.”
Dante moved one step.
Thomas raised the gun.
“Careful.”
I said, “You want the drive and the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need Leo.”
“He is insurance.”
“You don’t need Lucia either.”
“More insurance.”
I took another step.
Dante whispered, “Elina.”
I ignored him.
“Release the baby.”
“No.”
“I won’t go to the bank if you don’t.”
Thomas smiled.
“You will.”
“Then shoot me.”
Silence.
Dante’s face went pale.
“Elina.”
I looked at Thomas.
“Go ahead.”
He stared.
“If I die, the box stays closed.”
“You assume you’re the only access.”
“DNA restricted.”
His eyes changed.
Good.
“You need me.”
Thomas’s jaw tightened.
“Give Leo to Lucia.”
“He is already with Lucia.”
“Let her step away.”
Thomas hesitated.
I smiled faintly.
“You spent thirty years controlling everybody through fear.”
His face hardened.
“You’re not as impressive without it.”
Dante almost smiled despite himself.
Thomas shoved Lucia forward.
“Fine.”
She moved toward me carrying Leo.
I took him.
The second he reached my arms, he stopped crying.
Thomas stared.
Dante’s face broke with relief.
I handed Leo to Dante.
He held his son so tightly I almost cried.
“Now Gianni,” I said.
Thomas laughed.
“One miracle at a time.”
Then lights went out.
Gunfire.
Chaos.
Dante pulled me down.
Leo screamed.
Camila’s voice shouted from somewhere.
“Our team!”
Dante moved behind a metal support.
Thomas vanished into darkness.
Lucia crawled toward Gianni.
I followed.
A man appeared.
I hit him with a metal pipe.
Dante stared.
“What?”
“He had a gun.”
“That was impressive.”
“Focus.”
We freed Gianni.
He could barely stand.
Lucia hugged me for one second.
Only one.
Then shouted, “Thomas has a tunnel!”
Of course.
Dante passed Leo to me.
“No.”
“What?”
“You go with Lucia and Gianni.”
“You?”
“I’m getting Thomas.”
“Dante.”
“He killed Sofia.”
I grabbed his shirt.
“That is exactly why you don’t chase him angry.”
He looked at me.
“He kidnapped Leo.”
“Yes.”
“He threatened you.”
“Yes.”
“He killed my wife.”
“I know.”
His face twisted.
I softened.
“And Sofia told you not to avenge her.”
That stopped him.
“Protect Leo.”
Dante looked toward his son.
Leo cried.
Dante closed his eyes.
Then turned away from the tunnel.
Choice.
He chose his child.
Thomas escaped.
But we had Leo.
Gianni.
Lucia.
And the drive.
We returned to the Moretti estate before sunrise.
Lucia sat in the kitchen.
I sat across from her.
Neither of us knew how to begin thirty years of missing life.
She looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That seems popular.”
“I deserve that.”
“Why didn’t you come?”
Her eyes filled.
“Fear.”
“After Antonio died?”
“Thomas still had people.”
“After Marco died?”
“I didn’t know who remained.”
“After Sofia found you?”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“After the ledger.”
I looked away.
“Everyone waited for the perfect safe moment.”
“Yes.”
“It never came.”
“No.”
Lucia cried.
“I watched you.”
“I know.”
“Birthdays.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“I watched some.”
My throat tightened.
“From where?”
“Across streets. Parking lots.”
I laughed painfully.
“You watched me struggle to pay rent?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you help?”
“I did.”
“What?”
“Anonymous money once.”
I remembered.
A cashier’s check after Carla died.
Five thousand dollars.
No sender.
I had used it for funeral bills.
“That was you?”
“Yes.”
I cried.
“I thought it was insurance.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that.”
She nodded.
Silence.
Then Lucia took something from her coat.
A folded letter.
“Sofia wrote this for you.”
My hands shook.
“When?”
“The day before she died.”
I opened it.
Elina,
I don’t know how to introduce myself to someone who has my face.
I laughed through tears.
I’ve imagined it a thousand times.
Maybe you hate olives. I hope so because someone in this family should have standards.
I cried harder.
Dante stood in the doorway.
He heard.
His face softened.
Sofia continued.
I found you.
I know where you work.
I know you sing when you carry plates.
I know you give free bread to the homeless man outside even though Gianni pretends not to notice.
My chest broke.
I want to meet you.
But I want you alive more.
If I have to choose, I choose alive.
I closed my eyes.
I wish we had grown up fighting over clothes and birthdays and stupid boys.
I wish Leo could know both of us.
If I don’t get that chance, please know this:
You were never forgotten.
Not by Mom.
Not by Grandpa.
Not by me.
I folded over.
Lucia held me.
This time I let her.
Dante looked away.
Gianni cried quietly at the table.
When I could breathe again, Dante approached.
“There’s another problem.”
Of course.
“What?”
“The bank.”
I wiped my face.
“What?”
“Thomas triggered a legal claim against the dormant trust.”
“How?”
“He has Antonio’s old authorization documents.”
“So?”
“If we don’t access the box by noon tomorrow, it gets transferred to court custody.”
I stared.
“He’s trying to force it into a system he controls.”
“Yes.”
Gianni raised his head.
“I know the phrase.”
We looked at him.
“What is it?”
He smiled weakly.
“Sofia figured it out.”
I leaned closer.
Gianni said:
“Two daughters. One truth.”
Lucia began crying.
Dante looked toward me.
“Tomorrow.”
I nodded.
“We open the box.”
None of us knew Thomas had already placed one of his men inside the bank.
May you like
And none of us knew the ledger contained a final secret that would make Dante question whether he had any right to lead the Moretti family at all.
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