Chapter 2 - The Fiancée Who Disappeared
The five Mafia dons were moved to the underground bunker.
The peace agreement was postponed.
The mansion became a war room.
Every monitor displayed security footage.
Every phone was monitored.
Every exit was guarded.
I sat in a private room with Emma sleeping against my side.
Damiano entered.
He had changed his jacket.
There was blood on the cuff of his shirt.
I stood.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Whose blood?”
He looked at his cuff.
“Someone who tried to reach you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is he dead?”
“Not yet.”
I stared at him.
He looked toward Emma.
“She trusts me.”
“She doesn't know you.”
“She knows enough.”
I wanted to say she shouldn't.
Instead, I asked:
“What happened eight years ago?”
He sat across from me.
“You saved my life.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you disappear?”
“Because people followed me.”
“Who?”
“Your enemies.”
“My enemies are everywhere.”
“I was pregnant.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“How?”
“My father told me.”
I froze.
“Your father knew?”
“Yes.”
“He didn't know I was pregnant.”
“He knew you were protecting something.”
I looked at Emma.
Damiano continued.
“When I woke after the ambush, you were gone. My father told me the woman who helped me had probably been killed.”
“He lied.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my father knew you were carrying my child.”
My mouth opened.
“Then why didn't he find you?”
“He thought hiding me was the only way to keep you alive.”
Damiano shook his head.
“He was wrong.”
Before I could respond, Rafael entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found Sophia's vehicle.”
“Where?”
“Three blocks from the mansion.”
“Empty?”
“Yes.”
“Any blood?”
“No.”
“Phone?”
“Found inside.”
Rafael placed it on the table.
The screen showed one unsent message.
I KNOW ABOUT THE GIRL.
Damiano's eyes narrowed.
“Who sent it?”
“We're tracing.”
I stood.
“What girl?”
Rafael looked at Emma.
Damiano's face hardened.
I understood.
Someone had known about Emma before tonight.
“Who knew?”
Damiano looked at me.
“You.”
“Your father.”
“Grace Vale.”
I frowned.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Sophia.”
“Possibly.”
“And anyone who knew me eight years ago.”
Rafael interrupted.
“There was another.”
Damiano turned.
“Who?”
“Matteo.”
The name silenced the room.
I didn't know him.
Damiano did.
“My father's brother.”
“The man everyone said was dead?”
“Yes.”
Rafael nodded.
“He's alive.”
Damiano's expression darkened.
“And he's in New York.”
The mansion's underground alarm sounded.
Everyone looked at the monitor.
A black car had stopped outside the front gates.
A man stepped out.
Matteo Moretti.
Older.
Silver hair.
Walking cane.
He looked toward the cameras.
Then waved.
Damiano stepped toward the monitor.
“What does he want?”
Rafael answered:
“To congratulate you.”
“For what?”
“For finding your daughter.”
My blood ran cold.
Damiano looked at Emma.
Then at me.
“Everyone leaves this room.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You're staying.”
“Why?”
“Because this concerns you.”
The bunker doors opened.
Matteo's voice came through the security system.
“Damiano.”
He smiled into the camera.
“You finally met the little girl.”
Damiano stepped toward the microphone.
“How long?”
Matteo laughed.
“Longer than you think.”
“Who told you?”
“The woman you were going to marry.”
Damiano's eyes became dangerous.
“Sophia.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“From me?”
“From the war you are about to start.”
I stepped toward the microphone.
“You threatened my daughter.”
Matteo looked at the camera.
“No.”
“You did.”
“I warned you.”
“About what?”
He paused.
“That girl isn't the only secret your mother kept.”
My heart stopped.
“My mother?”
“You have questions.”
“I have many.”
“Then come alone.”
Damiano laughed coldly.
“You're forgetting something.”
“What?”
“You are surrounded by my family.”
Matteo smiled.
“Exactly.”
The call ended.
Damiano looked at me.
“We're not going.”
“Why?”
“Because that's what he wants.”
“Then what do we do?”
“We make him come to us.”
That afternoon, the five Mafia dons were brought into the great dining hall.
They were furious.
The peace agreement had been interrupted.
One accused Damiano.
Another threatened retaliation.
The oldest among them, Carlo Vitale, slammed his fist on the table.
“We came here to end twenty years of bloodshed.”
Damiano stood at the head of the table.
“Someone tried to murder all of you.”
Carlo glared.
“And you let it happen.”
“No.”
Damiano pointed toward the security screen.
“My daughter's warning saved you.”
The room went silent.
One don looked at me.
“Your daughter?”
Damiano placed a hand on Emma's shoulder.
“My daughter.”
The statement shocked everyone.
I felt my eyes fill.
For six years I had protected Emma from a world she didn't understand.
Now the most powerful man in that world was standing beside her.
One of the dons asked:
“Does she carry the Moretti blood?”
Damiano answered.
“Yes.”
Another leaned back.
“That changes the treaty.”
“No.”
Damiano's voice became cold.
“It changes the rules.”
He looked around the table.
“The peace agreement is no longer a negotiation.”
The men watched him.
“It is now an alliance against the person who tried to destroy it.”
Carlo narrowed his eyes.
“Who?”
Damiano looked at me.
Then Emma.
Then the monitor.
“Matteo.”
A murmur went through the room.
One don whispered:
“That man is a ghost.”
Damiano smiled without humor.
“Then tonight, we hunt ghosts.”
I held Emma's hand.
And I realized something terrifying.
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My daughter had not just saved five men.
She had just become the reason five criminal empires were about to unite.
