Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
By seven-thirty, every major road leaving Manhattan that could reasonably connect to Dante's territory was being watched.
But Sophia was nowhere.
Dante sat at the head of the long conference table while twelve captains stood around him.
Nobody dared mention her name.
They had all seen the empty room.
They had all heard that Dante was searching for her.
And they all understood that something about the disappearance had changed their boss.
Normally Dante Romanо was controlled.
He made decisions in minutes.
He never repeated an order.
He never displayed emotion where his enemies could use it.
That morning he had shattered two phones, dismissed three reports, and sent men back out twice because they had returned with information he considered incomplete.
Marco finally placed a folder on the table.
"We found her last confirmed location."
Dante opened it.
"A bakery in Greenwich Village?"
"She stopped there at 1:12 a.m."
A grainy photograph showed Sophia walking beneath an awning.
Her hair was soaked.
Her coat was too thin for the weather.
A paper bag hung from one hand.
"She bought coffee and a slice of lemon cake."
Dante stared at the picture.
"Lemon cake."
"Yes."
He swallowed.
Sophia had loved lemon cake since childhood.
She once told him that whenever life became unbearable, she baked one because the smell reminded her of her mother.
"Who did she meet?"
"No one."
"Then why did she go there?"
Marco opened another photograph.
"Because the owner gave her an envelope."
Dante looked up.
"What envelope?"
"She removed it from a slot beneath the counter. The bakery owner says Sophia came in three days ago and left instructions."
Three days.
Dante's fingers tightened around the photograph.
Three days before Isabella arrived.
Three days before he told Sophia to surrender her room.
Three days before he broke the fragile trust between them.
"Get me the owner."
The man was brought in twenty minutes later.
He looked terrified.
Dante pointed to the chair.
"Sit."
The bakery owner sat.
"Miss Bennett told me a man might come asking questions."
"What man?"
"She didn't give me a name."
"What did she leave?"
"A letter."
"Where is it?"
The owner handed him an envelope.
Dante opened it.
Inside was a single page.
If Dante asks, tell him I left because I chose peace.
Dante read it twice.
There was no accusation.
No insult.
No explanation.
Just a decision.
But beneath the sentence was another line written in smaller letters.
If Isabella is still in the house, do not trust anyone.
Dante froze.
Marco leaned closer.
"What does it say?"
Dante folded the page.
"Nothing useful."
Marco looked unconvinced.
Before he could speak, Dante's phone rang.
It was his attorney.
"Boss, I found something unusual in the payroll records."
"What?"
"Sophia Bennett has never been listed as a domestic employee."
Dante's face changed.
"Explain."
"Her payroll number is false. Her tax identification doesn't match any government record."
Dante stood.
"Who hired her?"
"We're checking."
"Find out now."
His attorney hesitated.
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
"The day she arrived, someone transferred a large sum into a dormant account associated with your father."
Dante felt the blood drain from his face.
His father had been dead for eight years.
"What does Sophia have to do with my father?"
"We don't know."
Dante ended the call.
For a moment, the room stayed silent.
Then Marco said, "Boss, I think we need to talk about the key."
Dante placed it on the table.
"That key opens the old archive beneath the chapel."
Marco stared at it.
"What?"
"Exactly."
They went underground.
The private records room had not been opened in years.
Dante unlocked it.
Dust covered the shelves.
Old ledgers lined the walls.
His father's handwriting filled the older volumes.
Dante began searching.
Then he found a file.
SOPHIA BENNETT.
He opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Sophia was sixteen years old.
She stood beside a woman on a porch.
Her mother.
The same porch in the missing photograph.
Dante read the attached note.
Belmir.
Protected witness.
Subject relocated after Romano-Conti dispute.
His breath caught.
"She wasn't a maid," Marco whispered.
"No."
"She was hidden."
Dante turned another page.
There was an old police report.
Sophia's mother, Claire Bennett, had once been an accountant for the Romano organization.
She had discovered that someone inside the syndicate was laundering money through charity foundations and using children as untraceable couriers.
Before she could testify, she disappeared.
Officially, she died in a boating accident.
But the file contained a handwritten note from Dante's father.
Claire Bennett is alive. Protect the daughter. Never let the Contis find her.
Dante stared at the words.
Then he remembered Isabella's arrival.
She had said her family was in danger.
She had asked for one room.
Sophia had looked at her.
And Dante had chosen Isabella.
The phone rang again.
This time it was Paulie.
"Boss, I found something."
"What?"
"Security footage from the southern road. Sophia wasn't alone."
Dante's chest tightened.
"Show me."
Paulie sent an image.
Sophia had walked through the rain.
At the edge of the road, an old black sedan waited.
A man stood beside it.
Dante knew him instantly.
Victor Crane.
A former Romano lieutenant who had vanished ten years earlier after being accused of stealing millions.
Dante's expression turned lethal.
"Find Victor."
"We've been looking."
"No."
Dante picked up his coat.
"I am going myself."
Marco grabbed his arm.
"Boss, that's reckless."
Dante stared at him.
"The woman I love has just walked into a secret from my father's past."
Marco released him.
Dante stopped.
He had said it aloud.
The woman I love.
For years he'd convinced himself Sophia was an attachment, a weakness, a temporary obsession.
He finally understood the truth.
He had loved her quietly enough that he had failed to tell her.
May you like
And yesterday he had given the room where she felt safe to another woman.
Now he had to find Sophia before someone else used the secret she had discovered against her.
