Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
At seven fifty-eight the next morning, Sofia Voss stood outside Dante Moretti's study convinced she was about to lose her job.
She had barely slept.
Elena had.
For the first time in weeks, her daughter had slept through the night.
Sofia should have been grateful.
Instead, she kept remembering the sight of Elena in Dante's arms.
The most feared man she had ever met had held her daughter as carefully as if she were made of glass.
It made no sense.
Nothing about Dante Moretti made sense anymore.
At eight precisely, the door opened.
“Come in.”
Sofia entered.
Dante was standing by the windows.
The untouched glass of scotch was gone. Coffee sat on the desk instead.
“Close the door.”
She did.
Dante turned.
“What did Marco Bellini ask you yesterday?”
Sofia's stomach dropped.
“He wanted to know about staffing records.”
“Which records?”
“The north property.”
“Try again.”
She stared at him.
Dante crossed to his desk and placed the folded note between them.
Sofia's face lost all color.
He saw it.
“You've seen this before.”
“No.”
“But you understand it.”
Her silence answered him.
Dante leaned against the desk.
“Sofia, I'm going to give you an opportunity people rarely receive from me.”
Her voice trembled. “What opportunity?”
“To tell me the truth before I discover it myself.”
Sofia looked toward the door.
“Is Elena downstairs?”
“Yes.”
“With Mrs. Conti?”
“Yes.”
Only then did she speak.
“Three weeks ago, I was cleaning the upstairs conference room after a dinner.”
Dante waited.
“There were papers in the trash.”
“What papers?”
“Shipping manifests.”
Dante's eyes sharpened.
Sofia continued.
“I didn't understand them at first. But my husband used to work in freight logistics. I recognized some of the codes.”
Dante said nothing at the mention of her husband.
She rarely discussed Elena's father.
“The listed cargo didn't match the invoices,” Sofia said. “The company names were wrong. Some didn't exist.”
“And you kept them?”
“No. I put them back.”
“Then how does Marco know?”
“I don't know.”
Dante studied her face.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Sofia gave a small, humorless laugh.
“You're asking why a maid didn't walk into Dante Moretti's private office and announce that she had been reading suspicious shipping documents?”
“Yes.”
“Because I wanted to remain alive and employed.”
He couldn't fault the logic.
“What else did you see?”
“One name.”
“Whose?”
She hesitated.
“Bellini.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
Marco Bellini had been beside him for eleven years.
Friend was not a word Dante used casually.
Marco came close.
He had attended Dante's mother's funeral. He had stood beside Dante when businesses collapsed, alliances changed, and men who had sworn loyalty discovered how temporary promises could be.
And now Sofia was telling him Marco's name appeared on falsified manifests.
“Anything else?”
“There was a transfer authorization.”
“To whom?”
“I only remember initials.”
“What initials?”
“L.M.”
Dante's expression changed.
Sofia noticed.
“You know who that is.”
“Perhaps.”
“Who?”
“That doesn't concern you.”
“It concerns me if someone wrote that I should be removed before Friday.”
Dante couldn't argue.
He walked toward the fireplace.
“Lucian Moretti.”
Sofia stared.
“Your brother?”
“My younger cousin.”
“But everyone calls him your brother.”
“Everyone is wrong.”
Lucian had grown up in the Moretti household after his parents died. Dante's father had raised both boys.
For most of their lives, blood percentages had meant nothing.
Recently, they had begun to mean considerably more.
Sofia wrapped her arms around herself.
“What happens now?”
“You don't leave the estate.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I have to take Elena to school.”
“She's not going.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Someone has written an instruction to remove you. Until I know what that means, neither you nor Elena leaves this property.”
Sofia's fear turned to anger.
“You can't imprison us here.”
“No.”
Dante's voice remained calm.
“But I can tell you that the alternative may be considerably worse.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“You think we're in danger.”
“Yes.”
The honesty frightened her more than reassurance would have.
A soft knock interrupted them.
Dante frowned.
The door opened several inches.
Curly brown hair appeared.
“Elena.”
She peeked around the frame.
“Am I allowed today?”
Dante stared at her.
Sofia nearly laughed despite herself.
“No,” Dante said.
Elena started closing the door.
“But you're already here.”
She stopped.
Dante sighed.
“Come in.”
Elena entered carrying three crayons and a folded sheet of paper.
She walked directly to the desk.
“I made something.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
Dante looked genuinely suspicious.
She placed the paper in front of him.
It was a drawing.
Three figures stood outside a large black house.
One was small and wore pink socks.
One had yellow hair and a black dress.
The third was ridiculously tall, entirely black, and possessed what appeared to be enormous eyebrows.
Dante stared at it.
“Is that supposed to be me?”
“Yes.”
“Why am I eight feet tall?”
“You're very tall.”
“And why do I have angry eyebrows?”
“You have angry eyebrows.”
Sofia covered her mouth.
Dante looked at her.
She immediately lowered her hand.
Elena pointed at the figures.
“That's Mama. That's me. That's you.”
Dante's gaze remained on the picture.
“Why am I in your family drawing?”
Elena shrugged.
“You were there yesterday.”
Something uncomfortable tightened behind his ribs.
Before he could answer, his phone rang.
Marco Bellini.
Dante looked at Sofia.
Then answered.
“Marco.”
“Finally. I've been trying to reach you.”
“I've been occupied.”
“We need to talk about the docks.”
Dante's gaze moved to Sofia.
“What about them?”
“There's a problem.”
“What kind?”
A pause.
“A security leak.”
Sofia went pale.
Dante's voice remained perfectly calm.
“Who?”
“We're still checking.”
“Then why call me before you know?”
Another pause.
“Because I think someone inside the estate has been looking at documents they shouldn't.”
Dante watched Sofia.
She was terrified.
Elena, unaware, added blue clouds to her drawing.
“Interesting,” Dante said.
“I need permission to handle it.”
“How?”
“I'd rather explain in person.”
“Come tonight.”
“Your place?”
“Yes.”
Marco hesitated.
“Fine. Nine.”
The call ended.
Sofia whispered, “You're inviting him here?”
“Yes.”
“He knows.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Listen.”
“And if he lies?”
Dante looked down at Elena's drawing.
“Then I'll know.”
That evening, the estate changed.
Security doubled quietly.
No one told Elena why.
Dante joined her for dinner because Sofia was too nervous to eat.
Elena pushed peas around her plate.
“Are we in trouble?”
“No.”
“Why can't I go to school?”
“Because I said so.”
“That isn't a reason.”
Dante looked across the table.
Sofia muttered, “Elena.”
“What? Teachers say answers need reasons.”
Dante almost admired her.
“There's a problem with transportation.”
“We have twelve cars.”
Dante slowly lowered his fork.
Sofia closed her eyes.
Elena smiled.
At eight forty-five, Dante stood.
“Stay upstairs tonight.”
Sofia knew better than to ask.
At nine, Marco Bellini arrived.
Dante received him in the study.
Marco was fifty, silver beginning to show at his temples. His tailored gray suit was damp from the rain.
“You look tired,” Marco said.
“You look nervous.”
Marco smiled.
“Always charming.”
They poured coffee.
Neither touched it.
Marco began explaining the docks.
Missing containers.
Incorrect manifests.
Rumors.
Employees asking questions.
Dante listened.
Finally Marco said, “One of your household staff may have seen documents.”
“Which one?”
“I don't know yet.”
A lie.
Dante recognized the rhythm instantly.
Marco continued.
“But if somebody did, we need to contain the situation.”
“Contain.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Marco leaned forward.
“Quietly.”
Dante's face revealed nothing.
Then a sound came from behind the study door.
A tiny sneeze.
Both men turned.
The door opened.
Elena stood there.
Sofia appeared behind her, horrified.
“Elena couldn't sleep,” she explained.
Marco stared at Sofia.
And for one brief second, Dante saw it.
Recognition.
Fear.
Then anger.
Marco covered it quickly.
Not quickly enough.
Elena walked toward Dante.
“Five minutes?”
Marco looked between them.
Dante held out his hand.
Elena came to him.
He lifted her onto his lap.
Marco's expression became unreadable.
“You've changed,” he said.
Dante met his gaze.
“Maybe.”
Marco stood.
“We'll finish tomorrow.”
“No.”
Marco paused.
“We'll finish now.”
Silence filled the room.
Dante took the folded threat from his pocket and placed it on the desk.
Marco's face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“Ever seen this?” Dante asked.
“No.”
Dante nodded.
“That's unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because I found it yesterday.”
Marco's eyes moved toward Sofia.
And that was his mistake.
He should have looked at Dante.
Instead, he looked directly at the woman whose name was written on the note.
Dante saw everything he needed.
Marco left twenty minutes later.
Dante didn't stop him.
Sofia waited until the front door closed.
“You let him leave.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because frightened men run toward the people they trust.”
She understood.
“You're following him.”
Dante nodded.
His phone vibrated.
A message from his security chief.
Bellini vehicle heading east.
Then another message arrived.
Destination appears to be Lucian Moretti's residence.
Dante looked at the screen.
Sofia whispered, “Your cousin.”
“Yes.”
Elena had fallen asleep against his chest.
Dante looked down at her.
Then another message appeared.
This one included a photograph taken through the windshield of Marco's car.
On the passenger seat sat a folder.
The security camera had captured the label.
E. VOSS — PATERNITY / PRIVATE
Dante's blood went cold.
The north docks were no longer the only secret Marco Bellini had been hiding.
Somebody had been investigating Elena's father.
May you like
And Dante suddenly needed to know why.
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