Chapter 8 - The Mother in Florence
Sofia Romano arrived in Chicago the following afternoon.
She did not look like a woman summoned into a criminal investigation.
She looked like royalty.
Silver hair arranged perfectly.
Dark coat.
Pearl earrings.
Back straight.
Expression composed.
She walked through the Romano estate without acknowledging the armed guards.
Then she saw Gabriele.
Her composure broke.
“My son.”
He crossed the foyer.
For one brief moment, the feared head of the Romano family became simply a child embracing his mother.
Federica looked away.
Some moments did not belong to observers.
Sofia touched Gabriele’s face.
“You were poisoned.”
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
Federica nearly smiled.
Apparently Gabriele had inherited the habit.
Then Sofia saw Federica.
Her expression changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“You.”
Federica frowned.
“We’ve met?”
“No.”
Sofia stepped closer.
“But Matteo showed me your photograph.”
Gabriele looked sharply at his mother.
“When?”
“Before he died.”
Silence.
Federica felt her pulse rise.
“Why?”
Sofia removed her gloves.
“Because he believed she could save us.”
Gabriele stared.
“Sit down.”
They moved into the library.
Marco closed the doors.
Sofia looked at the laptop.
At Matteo’s paused video.
Then closed her eyes.
“I told him not to make that recording.”
Federica whispered, “You were there.”
“Yes.”
“The ring in the reflection.”
Sofia touched the sapphire on her hand.
“Yes.”
Gabriele looked wounded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Matteo made me promise.”
“He died.”
“And he believed telling you too soon would get you killed.”
Gabriele’s voice hardened.
“That should have been my choice.”
“No.”
Sofia’s answer was quiet.
“You were angry after your father died. Reckless. Matteo was careful. He knew if you learned someone inside the family had betrayed us, you would tear Chicago apart before you knew whom to tear apart.”
Federica glanced at Gabriele.
Sofia noticed.
“You see?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Gabriele leaned forward.
“What happened the night Father died?”
Sofia became very still.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then:
“He told me he was dying.”
Gabriele frowned.
“What?”
“Not that night. Months earlier.”
She looked at the rain beyond the windows.
“Your father discovered someone had been slowly poisoning him.”
Federica felt cold.
“Did he know who?”
“No.”
“He suspected?”
“Yes.”
“Sterling?”
“At first.”
Sofia folded her hands.
“Then he found payments from the family trust.”
Gabriele’s eyes closed briefly.
“The same ledger.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he go to the police?”
Sofia gave him a sad look.
“You know why.”
Because Romano secrets would have exposed decades of crime along with the murderer.
Gabriele looked away.
“What happened?”
“Your father changed his medication. The poisoning stopped.”
“Then why did he die?”
Sofia’s expression tightened.
“Because whoever was doing it realized.”
Federica leaned forward.
“How?”
“A doctor came to the house.”
“Which doctor?”
“Dr. Calvin Mercer.”
Federica recognized the name.
Gray network payments.
She opened the laptop.
There.
Mercer Medical Consulting.
Three payments in the month Gabriele’s father died.
“Mercer killed him.”
Sofia nodded.
“He injected something during what he claimed was treatment.”
“You saw it?”
“I saw the injection.”
“And did nothing?”
Gabriele’s voice broke.
Sofia turned toward him.
“I did not know until afterward.”
“How afterward?”
“Your father began convulsing ten minutes later.”
Gabriele stood.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Mercer disappeared.”
“And?”
“Because the next morning I received photographs of you and Matteo.”
Silence.
Sofia whispered, “With a message saying one son would die for every word I spoke.”
Gabriele’s anger vanished.
Federica saw the guilt replace it.
Sofia continued.
“I stayed silent to protect you.”
“Matteo found out.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“And he investigated.”
“Yes.”
“He discovered Gray.”
“Yes.”
“Then they killed him.”
Sofia’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Gabriele turned away.
Federica wanted to reach for him.
She did not.
Not yet.
“What about Alessandro?” Marco asked.
Sofia looked surprised.
“What about him?”
“Payments make it look like he benefited.”
“He was helping Matteo.”
Gabriele turned back.
“How?”
“Moving funds through accounts Matteo could trace.”
“So the approvals?”
“Deliberate.”
Federica nodded.
That fit.
Alessandro had created breadcrumbs.
Not murder payments.
Evidence trails.
“Then who benefits from the deaths?” she asked.
Sofia looked at her.
“Someone who doesn’t appear on the trust.”
Federica froze.
That was the mistake.
They had assumed the killer wanted shares.
Maybe the killer wanted something else.
“What does Romano Holdings own that isn’t visible on normal corporate reports?”
Gabriele’s face changed.
Sofia answered.
“The lake properties.”
“What lake properties?”
“A network of logistics sites.”
“Warehouses?”
“Some.”
Gabriele understood.
Old Romano routes.
Legacy operations.
Smuggling infrastructure his father had supposedly dismantled.
Federica looked at him.
“Sterling wants the routes.”
“Yes.”
“But Sterling can’t inherit them.”
“No.”
“So whoever is inside your family doesn’t need ownership.”
Federica’s mind accelerated.
“They only need the people who can block access removed.”
Gabriele.
Matteo.
Their father.
Leo eventually.
Alessandro perhaps.
Sofia whispered, “There was one person who knew every route.”
Gabriele stared.
“Who?”
“Your father’s consigliere.”
Marco’s face changed.
“Enzo Moretti?”
Sofia nodded.
Gabriele frowned.
“He died ten years ago.”
Federica immediately opened records.
Death certificate.
Funeral payments.
Insurance.
But something was wrong.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“This death certificate was filed digitally.”
“So?” Marco asked.
“The issuing county changed systems the following year.”
She enlarged the document.
“This template didn’t exist yet.”
Silence.
Gabriele leaned closer.
“You’re saying it’s fake.”
“Yes.”
Sofia’s face drained.
Federica searched property records.
Enzo Moretti.
Nothing.
Then Gray Consulting.
Beneficial ownership hidden.
She traced formation documents.
Law firms.
Holding companies.
Trust structures.
Finally a name appeared.
ELIAS MORETTI.
Marco swore.
“Enzo’s middle name was Elias.”
Gabriele stood.
“He’s alive.”
Sofia whispered, “All these years…”
Federica sat back.
The shape of the conspiracy changed.
Victor Sterling had been a visible enemy.
Evelyn had managed Gray.
But perhaps neither had invented it.
Perhaps they had been partners.
Or employees.
Enzo Moretti had served Gabriele’s father for thirty years.
He knew every route.
Every account.
Every family weakness.
Every medical condition.
Every security procedure.
Every person who would trust him enough to come close.
Gabriele’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A distorted male voice spoke.
“Hello, Gabrielino.”
Gabriele went completely still.
Only one man had called him that as a boy.
Enzo.
The voice continued.
“I hear you finally found my ledger.”
Gabriele’s eyes turned black.
“Where is Alessandro?”
“Alive.”
“Hargrove?”
“For now.”
“What do you want?”
The man laughed quietly.
“What I have always wanted.”
“The routes?”
“No.”
A pause.
“The name.”
Gabriele frowned.
“What name?”
“Romano.”
Everyone listened.
Enzo continued.
“Your father treated me like family until it mattered. I built half his empire. Protected his sons. Buried his enemies. And what did I remain?”
His voice sharpened.
“A servant.”
Federica understood.
This was not only money.
It was resentment preserved for decades.
Gabriele said, “So you murdered him.”
“Yes.”
The casual admission chilled the room.
“And Matteo.”
“He was too intelligent.”
“Leo?”
“An unfortunate necessity.”
Gabriele’s hand tightened around the phone.
Federica stepped beside him.
Enzo heard the movement.
“Is the accountant there?”
Gabriele said nothing.
Enzo laughed.
“Federica Ferrari. The woman everyone ignored.”
Federica took the phone.
“I’m here.”
Gabriele looked at her sharply.
Enzo’s tone changed.
Interested.
“You impressed me.”
“I wish I could return the compliment.”
“You escaped my men.”
“They weren’t very good.”
Marco almost smiled.
Enzo chuckled.
“Come work for me.”
“No.”
“I haven’t explained—”
“No.”
“You are loyal to Gabriele?”
Federica looked at him.
“Yes.”
Something in her answer changed the air.
Enzo noticed too.
“How touching.”
“What do you want?”
“A trade.”
“For Alessandro?”
“And Hargrove.”
“In exchange for?”
“The ledger.”
Federica looked at Gabriele.
“What location?”
Enzo gave an address.
An abandoned freight terminal beside the Chicago River.
Midnight.
Then he added:
“And Federica?”
“Yes?”
“Bring Leo.”
Gabriele snatched the phone.
“Never.”
Enzo laughed.
“Then Alessandro dies at midnight.”
The line disconnected.
Federica stared at Gabriele.
He already knew.
She knew.
They could not bring a baby into a trap.
They could not abandon Alessandro either.
So Federica asked the question nobody else wanted to ask.
“What if we make Enzo believe Leo is there?”
Gabriele looked at her.
May you like
And slowly, the beginning of a plan entered his eyes.
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