Chapter 3 - The Photograph from Sicily
Landon hit the floor beside Serena as another impact cracked against the brick outside.
She killed the apartment lights.
“Stay down.”
He stared at her.
“You’re giving me orders?”
“If you want to survive the next thirty seconds, yes.”
There was no panic in her voice now.
No frightened waitress.
No trembling hands.
The woman moving through the darkness was someone completely different.
Serena crawled toward the kitchen.
Landon followed.
“Who is outside?”
“I don’t know.”
“That answer isn’t good enough.”
“It’s the only answer I have.”
She reached beneath the sink and pulled out a small emergency bag.
Phone.
Passport.
Cash.
Flashlight.
Landon noticed the organization.
Everything had a place.
She had prepared for this.
“How long have you been waiting to run?”
“Two years.”
“From whom?”
She froze.
Another sharp sound came from the street.
Not a gunshot.
Landon recognized the difference.
A suppressed projectile had struck the window frame.
“Fire escape?”
“Compromised.”
“Back stairs?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I’ve never had company.”
Despite everything, Landon almost laughed.
“You worked in a restaurant full of people.”
“That wasn’t my home.”
“Apparently neither is this.”
She glared at him.
“Are you always this annoying when someone is trying to keep you alive?”
“Yes.”
They moved through the apartment.
Serena stopped at the bedroom doorway.
She lifted a loose section of carpet.
Beneath it was a slim metal case.
Landon watched.
“What is that?”
“The reason your brother died.”
Everything inside him went silent.
Serena grabbed the case.
Before Landon could ask another question, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
She held a finger to her lips.
Landon moved beside the door.
Serena shook her head.
He ignored her.
A shadow passed beneath the frame.
Then stopped.
Landon’s phone vibrated.
He looked down.
DOMINIC.
He answered without speaking.
Dominic whispered, “Two men entered the building three minutes ago. We’re moving.”
Landon closed his eyes briefly.
“You followed me.”
“Of course.”
“I told you not to.”
“You pay me to ignore stupid instructions.”
Despite the situation, Landon felt a fraction of relief.
“How many?”
“Two we can see. Maybe more outside.”
“Take them without noise.”
“Working on it.”
The line disconnected.
Serena stared.
“You brought security.”
“They followed.”
“So much for coming alone.”
“I did come alone.”
“You arrived alone. That’s different.”
A heavy knock struck the apartment door.
“Police!”
Serena almost smiled.
“They’re not police.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Police knock louder.”
The knock came again.
“Open the door!”
Serena pointed toward the rear hallway.
“Move.”
They reached the stairwell just as a crash came from the front.
The apartment door had been forced.
Serena descended rapidly.
Landon followed.
On the second-floor landing, a man appeared below.
Serena stopped.
Landon stepped in front of her.
The man raised his hands.
“Boss.”
Landon exhaled.
One of Dominic’s men.
“Rear exit clear?”
“For now.”
They moved outside.
Dominic waited beside an SUV.
He opened the rear door.
Serena stopped.
“No.”
Landon turned.
“No what?”
“I’m not getting into your car.”
“Someone just shot through your window.”
“That doesn’t make getting into a Mafia boss’s SUV appealing.”
“It’s armored.”
“That was not the concern.”
Dominic looked between them.
“Can you argue inside the vehicle?”
Another security man shouted from the alley entrance.
“Move!”
Serena climbed in.
Landon followed.
The SUV accelerated.
For nearly two minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Landon looked at the metal case in Serena’s lap.
“You said that contains the reason Santino died.”
She stared through the rain-streaked glass.
“Yes.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
Landon waited.
Serena glanced toward him.
“You think everyone obeys you.”
“Most people do.”
“I’m not one of them.”
“No. You fake your death and sing secret lullabies to my nephew.”
Her expression tightened.
“I didn’t intend to meet Leo.”
“But you did.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew him.”
“I recognized him.”
“From what?”
“Pictures.”
“What pictures?”
“Santino showed me.”
“How well did you know my brother?”
Serena looked at Dominic.
“Not here.”
Landon leaned closer.
“You don’t control where this conversation happens.”
She matched his stare.
“If you want the truth, stop behaving like the man Santino was afraid you would become.”
That landed.
Dominic looked toward the window.
Landon’s voice dropped.
“My brother was never afraid of me.”
Serena’s eyes softened slightly.
“That isn’t what I said.”
The SUV entered an underground garage beneath a building Landon owned through three separate holding companies.
They took a private elevator to a secure penthouse.
No staff.
No guests.
Only Landon, Serena, Dominic, and two guards stationed outside.
Serena placed the metal case on the dining table.
She did not open it.
Instead she removed her wet coat.
Landon noticed a pale scar near her shoulder before the fabric shifted.
She caught him looking.
“Car accident,” she said.
“The one that supposedly killed you?”
“No.”
He almost asked more.
She sat.
Landon remained standing.
“Start talking.”
Serena stared at the case.
“Your brother came to Sicily four years ago because he believed one of the Moretti shipping companies was being used without authorization.”
“For what?”
“Smuggling.”
Landon’s expression hardened.
“We never moved narcotics.”
“I didn’t say narcotics.”
“Then what?”
“People.”
Silence filled the room.
Dominic’s face changed.
Landon shook his head.
“No.”
Serena did not blink.
“Santino found cargo manifests that didn’t match passenger records. Young women being transported with false employment documents. Migrants being charged debts they could never repay. People disappearing between ports.”
“No Moretti company would—”
“Officially? No.”
“Unofficially?”
“That’s what Santino wanted to learn.”
Landon walked toward the window.
The city spread beneath him.
His family had built legitimate businesses from older, darker money.
Restaurants.
Real estate.
Import companies.
Construction.
Santino had pushed hardest to clean everything completely.
Landon had allowed it because it made financial sense.
Apparently Santino had discovered something Landon had not.
“Why didn’t he come to me?”
“He planned to.”
“When?”
“When he had proof.”
“He needed proof to speak to his own brother?”
Serena’s answer was quiet.
“He needed proof because he believed the person responsible was close to you.”
Landon turned.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I knew Santino for eleven months. Most of our communication happened through encrypted channels. He never told me everything.”
“What were you to him?”
“A translator at first.”
“And later?”
“A friend.”
Landon studied her.
“Only a friend?”
Her expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“Isabella says the same.”
“You questioned Isabella?”
“I ask questions when people lie to me.”
“Then you must be very busy.”
Dominic covered a cough that might have been a laugh.
Landon ignored him.
“How did you learn the song?”
Serena looked down.
“That happened in Cefalù.”
She touched the metal case.
“Santino had gone there because he believed a port supervisor could connect the false shipping records to someone in New York.”
“What happened?”
“The supervisor never arrived.”
“And?”
“Men came instead.”
Landon’s jaw tightened.
Serena continued.
“We escaped through the back of a restaurant and hid in an abandoned fishing house.”
The memory changed her voice.
“We were there for almost eight hours.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Everything people talk about when they think they may not see morning.”
She gave a small sad smile.
“His wife. His son. You.”
“Me?”
“A lot.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were impossible.”
Dominic looked down again.
Serena continued.
“He said you believed responsibility meant carrying everything yourself. That you confused control with protection.”
Landon’s face remained still.
“He talked about Leo because he was terrified he might never see him again.”
She paused.
“Then he sang the lullaby.”
The room became quiet.
“He said he invented it the night Leo was born.”
Landon looked away.
That part was true.
No investigation could have uncovered it.
No database.
No newspaper.
Only someone Santino trusted could know.
“What happened after the fishing house?”
“We survived.”
“How?”
“The men searching for us left after sunrise.”
“And the port supervisor?”
“Found dead two days later.”
Landon’s attention snapped back.
“Name?”
“Marco Bellini.”
Dominic reached for his phone.
Serena stopped him.
“You won’t find the useful records.”
“Why?”
“They were erased.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because unlike the people who work for you, I’m not going to invent answers just because you dislike uncertainty.”
Landon stepped closer.
“And the metal case?”
Serena rested her palm on it.
“Santino sent this to me one week before he died.”
“What’s inside?”
“Copies of documents.”
“What documents?”
“Payments. Shipping transfers. shell companies. Messages.”
“Names?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
She looked directly at him.
“Some belong to your family.”
Landon felt something twist inside his chest.
“Open it.”
Serena hesitated.
Then entered a six-digit code.
The locks released.
Inside were two encrypted drives, paper files, and a photograph.
Landon reached for the photograph first.
Four men stood outside a harbor office in Sicily.
Santino.
A port supervisor Landon did not recognize.
A Moretti attorney.
And Dominic Hale.
Landon froze.
Slowly, he raised his eyes.
Dominic stared at the image.
“I’ve never been there.”
Serena looked at him.
“The photograph says otherwise.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“That’s not me.”
Landon examined the picture again.
The face was unmistakable.
Same height.
Same scar beside the eyebrow.
Same man who had protected Landon for six years.
Serena whispered:
“Santino believed one of the men in that photograph betrayed him.”
Landon looked at Dominic.
And for the first time since they had met, Landon did not know whether the man beside him was his protector—
May you like
or the reason his brother was dead.
---
