Chapter 7: The Night the Russo Family Fell Apart
The second gunshot shattered the bedroom mirror.
Dante covered Sophia with his body while Michael dragged me toward the narrow passage behind the wardrobe.
“Move!”” Michael shouted.
“I’m not leaving Dante!”” I yelled.
“Then you'll die beside him!””
Another bullet punched through the bedroom door.
Dante lifted Sophia into his arms and rushed toward us. His face was streaked with blood from a cut above his eyebrow, but his eyes remained fixed on his daughter.
“Where does this passage lead?”” he demanded.
“Down to the old wine cellar,” Michael answered.
“There's a tunnel connecting it to the carriage house.””
Dante stared at his brother.
“You knew about this?””
“I grew up here too.””
For one terrible second, I thought Dante might refuse to follow him.
Then Sophia grabbed his collar.
“Daddy, please.””
Dante entered the passage.
We followed him down a narrow staircase, the air growing colder with every step. Above us, boots thundered across the bedroom floor.
Michael pulled a rusted lever beside the cellar door.
The passage opened into a dim room filled with empty wine racks and broken furniture.
“Keep moving,” he whispered.
Dante set Sophia down long enough to check her arms and face.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart?””
“No.””
“Did anyone touch you?””
She shook her head.
Then she looked toward Michael.
“Uncle Michael said Mommy was waiting for us.””
Dante's expression tightened.
“Did he tell you where?””
Sophia nodded.
“At the house with the blue windows.””
Michael closed his eyes.
Dante turned toward him.
“What house?””
“The place where Isabella is being held.””
“You said you didn't know whether she was alive.””
“I lied.””
Dante seized his brother's jacket.
“You have five seconds to explain.””
Michael didn't resist.
“Your men were watching every property connected to our family. If I'd told you where Isabella was, Marco would have known before we reached the door.””
“Marco is in my custody.””
“Marco has people everywhere.””
Dante released him.
For several seconds, he looked as though he might strike his brother.
Instead, he stepped away and pressed his palm against the cellar wall.
“You let me believe my wife might be dead.””
“I was trying to keep her alive.””
“You let me believe you were dead for twelve years!””
Michael's face crumpled.
“I know.””
“No, you don't.””
Dante's voice echoed through the cellar.
“You don't know what it did to me. You don't know what it did to our mother.””
Michael looked down.
“I heard her crying outside my bedroom when I was thirteen. I remember telling her I'd never leave her alone.””
Dante swallowed hard.
“Then you should have come home.””
“I couldn't.””
“You should have tried!””
A heavy crash sounded from the staircase.
Someone had found the passage.
Michael grabbed a flashlight.
“We have to go.””
Dante lifted Sophia again.
This time, he didn't argue.
We hurried through the tunnel, emerging into a small carriage house behind the estate. Rain hammered the roof, and the smell of wet earth filled the air.
Michael opened a side door.
A black sedan waited beyond the fence.
“Get in,” he ordered.
Dante stopped.
“Whose car?””
“Mine.””
“Who else knows about it?””
“No one.””
Dante studied his brother's face.
Then he looked at me.
“Do you trust him?””
I thought about the recording. About the years of deception. About Michael carrying Sophia through the estate while armed men hunted us.
“I don't know,” I admitted.
Dante nodded slowly.
“Neither do I.””
He opened the rear door and placed Sophia inside.
“That's why we're going to find Isabella ourselves.””
We drove for nearly forty minutes before Michael turned onto a narrow road overlooking the Hudson River.
He explained that Isabella had discovered a second set of financial records six months earlier. The documents connected a network of shell companies to several murders, including the warehouse fire that had supposedly killed him.
“Who was behind the network?”” I asked.
Michael kept his eyes on the road.
“I don't know the full name. I know the operation was run through a company called Northbridge Holdings.””
Dante went still.
“Northbridge?””
“You've heard of it?””
Dante gave a humorless laugh.
“It's one of my largest legitimate investments.””
Michael glanced at him.
“Exactly.””
Dante leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
“Someone has been using my businesses to move money for years.””
“Someone who has access to your accounts, your security, and your private meetings.””
I remembered Marco's gold watch.
“Your closest adviser,” I whispered.
Dante didn't answer.
He was looking at Sophia.
She had fallen asleep again, her head resting against my arm.
“Grace,” he said quietly, “if something happens to me, take her to Mrs. Price.””
I turned toward him.
“Don't say that.””
“I need you to promise me.””
“No.””
His eyes narrowed.
“Excuse me?””
“You heard me. I'm not promising to take your daughter because you've decided you might die.””
For the first time that night, something almost like a smile touched his mouth.
“You're very difficult.””
“So I've been told.””
He looked at Sophia again.
“I don't want her growing up like I did.””
“Then don't let her.””
The words seemed to strike somewhere deep inside him.
He nodded once.
Michael pulled into an abandoned gas station and switched off the engine.
“We're close.””
He pointed toward a distant property surrounded by high stone walls. A large house stood beyond them, its windows glowing pale blue beneath the rain.
Dante stared at it.
“Isabella is inside?””
“Yes.””
“Then let's go.””
Michael caught his arm.
“There's something else.””
Dante turned slowly.
“What now?””
Michael hesitated.
“Isabella didn't disappear because she discovered the financial records.””
“Then why?””
“Because she discovered who was paying for Sophia's medical treatments before she was born.””
Dante's expression changed.
“What are you talking about?””
Michael looked at me, then back at his brother.
“Your father knew Sophia existed before Isabella ever married you.””
Dante stared at him.
“That is impossible.””
“Your father arranged the payments. He had a private doctor monitor Isabella's pregnancy. He knew exactly who the biological father was.””
“Why would he do that?””
“Because he believed Sophia was the key to controlling both of us.””
Dante stepped closer.
“What does that mean?””
Michael's answer was interrupted by a phone ringing inside the car.
Dante checked the screen.
The caller ID displayed a name that made his entire body go rigid.
*MARCO BELLINI.*
The man who had supposedly been taken into custody.
Dante answered.
“Where are you?””
Marco laughed softly.
“Somewhere you should have taken me twelve years ago.””
Dante tightened his grip on the phone.
“What do you want?””
“To give you one last chance to make the right decision.””
“And what decision is that?””
Marco's voice turned cold.
“Choose which member of your family you want to bury tonight.””
A photograph arrived on Dante's screen.
Isabella sat tied to a chair inside the blue-windowed house.
Beside her stood a man wearing a gold watch.
Marco continued speaking.
“You have ten minutes, Dante.””
May you like
Then he added the words that made Sophia wake up screaming.
“Tell Michael his daughter says goodbye.””
