Chapter 6 - THE VOICE OF A DEAD WOMAN
Silvio sent a video.
Isabella sat inside a dim room.
Her hair was shorter.
A scar crossed her left cheek.
She looked thinner.
But she was alive.
Damiano watched the video without breathing.
Isabella lifted her face toward the camera.
“Do not give him Mia.”
Her voice was weak.
“Whatever Silvio promises, do not trade our daughter.”
The video ended.
Damiano called the number immediately.
Silvio answered.
“You kept her for three years.”
“I kept an insurance policy.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Nothing near you is safe.”
Silvio laughed.
“Tomorrow night, the five families meet at the Marchetti docks.”
“You bring the ledgers and the drive.”
“I return Isabella.”
“And Mia?”
“Your daughter remains with me until I know the copies are destroyed.”
Damiano’s expression became still.
Silvio mistook stillness for hesitation.
“You have until midnight.”
The call ended.
Sofia moved toward Damiano.
“You cannot bring Mia.”
“I will not.”
“He will kill Isabella.”
“No.”
Damiano looked toward Rafael.
“He has kept her alive for a reason.”
“What reason?” Sofia asked.
“Silvio needs access to the Verrone foundation.”
“Isabella’s signature controls half the charitable trust.”
“If she dies, control passes to Mia.”
Sofia understood.
“That is why he tried to kill Mia at the school.”
“Yes.”
“If Mia dies before Isabella, Silvio can force Isabella to transfer everything.”
The foundation controlled more than money.
It owned warehouses, clinics, housing properties, and transportation contracts.
Silvio had used some routes to move weapons.
Isabella discovered it.
She became the only living witness capable of proving the trust had been corrupted.
Damiano looked toward Mia.
The child sat on the chapel floor beside Isabella’s portrait.
She was drawing another heart.
Her world remained paper, crayons, and questions.
Around her, adults were deciding who might die.
Damiano crossed the room.
He knelt.
“Mia.”
She looked up.
“Is the lady alive?”
“Yes.”
“Is she my other mommy?”
“Yes.”
“Can we bring her home?”
Damiano touched the paper heart.
“I am going to try.”
“Do you have to shoot people?”
Sofia closed her eyes.
Damiano answered honestly.
“Maybe.”
Mia frowned.
“My teacher says fighting makes problems bigger.”
“Your teacher is usually correct.”
“Then talk first.”
Every man in the chapel looked away.
The most feared leader in New York was receiving negotiation advice from an eight-year-old.
Damiano nodded.
“I will talk first.”
“And if they don’t listen?”
“Then Rafael will take you somewhere safe.”
Mia looked at Rafael.
“Is he good?”
The question struck deeper than any accusation.
Rafael knelt several feet away.
“I made a bad choice.”
“Did you say sorry?”
“Not properly.”
Mia waited.
Rafael looked toward Damiano.
“I am sorry.”
“I was ashamed.”
“I hid the truth.”
“My silence helped the people who took Isabella.”
“I will accept whatever judgment you decide.”
Damiano held his gaze.
For three years, Rafael had stood beside him.
He had taken bullets.
He had protected the estate.
He had also concealed the meeting that opened the safe house to attack.
Mia touched Damiano’s sleeve.
“He said sorry.”
“That does not fix everything,” Damiano replied.
“No.”
She nodded seriously.
“But it starts fixing.”
Damiano looked at Rafael.
“You remain alive until Isabella tells me whether you deserve otherwise.”
Rafael bowed his head.
It was not forgiveness.
May you like
It was time.
Sometimes time was the more difficult sentence.
