Chapter 4 - The Betrayal
Dante did not accuse Sophia.
That almost made it worse.
He ordered the gates locked.
Not because Sophia was a prisoner, he insisted, but because Ferrante's people might now believe she possessed information worth killing for.
Sophia laughed bitterly.
“Convenient.”
Dante dismissed everyone from the study except her.
“I believe you.”
“You didn't yesterday.”
“I was wrong.”
“That's fast.”
“My mother told me what Rosa did.”
“So my grandmother's goodness purchased my credibility?”
“No.”
“Sounds familiar.”
Dante understood the reference.
The debt.
Everything with him became a transaction eventually.
He stepped back.
“Tell me what you want.”
“The truth.”
“You have it.”
“No, Dante. I have whatever portion of the truth you decide I'm allowed to survive.”
That struck.
He said nothing.
Sophia continued.
“Who is Ferrante?”
“A rival.”
“What does he want?”
“My shipping routes. Financial records. Names.”
“Was any of that on the drive?”
“We don't know.”
“And my father?”
“Missing.”
Sophia went pale.
“What?”
“Enzo's looking.”
She reached for her phone.
Dante caught himself before telling her not to.
“Call him.”
Anthony didn't answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Sophia grabbed her coat.
“I'm going.”
“No.”
Her head snapped toward him.
Dante corrected himself.
“Not alone.”
“You said you believed me.”
“I do.”
“Then stop treating me like cargo.”
He took a breath.
“I'll go with you.”
That surprised her.
They found Anthony's apartment empty.
A chair was overturned.
Blood marked the kitchen floor.
Sophia stopped breathing.
Dante touched the stain.
“Not much.”
“That is my father's blood.”
“I know.”
She turned on him.
“Then don't say ‘not much’ like you're discussing spilled wine.”
His face softened.
“I'm sorry.”
Sophia searched the apartment.
Inside a kitchen drawer she found betting slips.
Dozens.
Then a business card.
Vanessa Genovese.
Sophia stared.
Dante took it.
Something cold entered his face.
“No.”
“You recognize it.”
“Anyone can get her card.”
“Do you believe that?”
He didn't answer.
Sophia searched further.
Behind a stack of unpaid bills she found a handwritten note.
Tomorrow. 11 p.m. Clear the debt. Do exactly what V says.
Dante read it.
His eyes became lethal.
Sophia knew immediately.
“Vanessa.”
“Maybe.”
“Yesterday you needed facts when it was me.”
He looked at her.
“You're right.”
The admission surprised her more than denial would have.
They returned to the estate after midnight.
Vanessa was waiting.
She sat beside Elena as if nothing had happened.
Dante entered first.
“Leave.”
Vanessa blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Sophia followed.
Vanessa saw the business card in Dante's hand.
Her face changed for half a second.
Enough.
Dante noticed.
“So it was you.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Anthony Rossi.”
Elena looked between them.
“What happened?”
Vanessa stood.
“That man approached me for money.”
“When?”
“A week ago.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I knew exactly what would happen.”
She looked at Sophia.
“You would defend her.”
Sophia stepped forward.
“Where is my father?”
“I don't know.”
“Vanessa.”
“I said I don't know.”
Dante's voice dropped.
“What did you ask Anthony to do?”
Vanessa looked at him.
Years of expectation, humiliation and fear seemed to gather behind her eyes.
“You were going to marry me.”
“This isn't about us.”
“It became about us the moment she walked into your house.”
Elena stood.
“No. It became about you when you decided another woman had to be destroyed because a man looked at her.”
Vanessa flinched.
“You never wanted me here.”
“I wanted my son happy.”
“And I wasn't good enough?”
“This isn't about being good enough.”
“For people like us, it is always about being good enough!”
The scream startled everyone.
Vanessa's composure shattered.
“My father spent twenty years telling me I would marry a Moretti. Every dinner. Every school. Every introduction. I wasn't raised to choose. I was raised to become useful.”
Dante's anger remained, but something in his face shifted.
Vanessa looked at Sophia.
“Then she arrives. No family. No money. No expectations. She makes Elena laugh, and suddenly everyone acts as though freedom simply walked through the kitchen door wearing an apron.”
Sophia's anger softened for one dangerous second.
Then she remembered her father.
“You used him.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Who does?”
Vanessa hesitated.
Dante saw it.
“Who?”
“Ferrante.”
Sophia's blood went cold.
Vanessa looked at her.
“I only wanted him to take the drive. Ferrante was supposed to believe you gave it to your father. Dante would send you away.”
“What was on it?”
“Old shipping manifests. Nothing current.”
Dante stepped closer.
“You gave a rival access to Moretti records.”
“I gave him garbage!”
“You brought him into my house.”
“No. She did.”
Vanessa pointed at Sophia.
“Her father did. Her chaos did.”
Sophia crossed the room before anyone could stop her.
She didn't slap Vanessa.
She stood inches away.
“My father has hurt me more times than I can count. I know exactly what he is. But you found a drowning man and pushed his head underwater because you were angry at me.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
Sophia continued quietly.
“That wasn't your father controlling you. That was you.”
Vanessa looked away.
Enzo entered.
“We found Anthony.”
Sophia turned.
“Where?”
“Ferrante has him.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief nearly dropped her to her knees.
“Where?”
“A warehouse in Red Hook.”
Dante was already moving.
Sophia followed.
“No.”
She stopped.
He faced her.
“Dante.”
“This is dangerous.”
“He's my father.”
“I know.”
“Then don't ask me to sit here while men decide what happens to him.”
Dante stared at her.
This was the moment.
The old Dante would have ordered guards to lock the door.
The old Dante would have called it protection.
He reached into his coat and handed her a phone.
“Stay beside Enzo.”
Sophia took it.
“I stay beside myself.”
A strange smile crossed his face.
“Of course you do.”
They reached Red Hook at 1:43 a.m.
The warehouse was empty.
Except for Anthony.
He sat tied to a chair.
Alive.
Sophia ran to him.
“Dad!”
His face was bruised.
He began crying when he saw her.
“I'm sorry.”
She cut the tape around his wrists.
“Save it.”
Dante scanned the room.
Too easy.
His instincts screamed.
“Sophia.”
She looked up.
A phone began ringing on a table.
Dante answered.
Luca Ferrante's voice came through the speaker.
“You're late.”
“Where are you?”
“Far enough.”
“What do you want?”
Ferrante laughed.
“Nothing from you.”
Then his voice changed.
“I wanted the girl to find her father.”
Sophia looked toward the windows.
Ferrante continued.
May you like
“Because now I know exactly where she is.”
The lights went out.
