Chapter 9 - SOFIA’S LAST LETTERThe letter had been written three days before Sofia died.
Her handwriting slanted across six pages, elegant at first, then increasingly unsteady.
Dante read it alone inside the mausoleum while police surrounded the cemetery.
Vittorio and Jake were placed in separate vehicles.
Liam received medical treatment beside an ambulance.
My father stood nearby, watching his son refuse to look at him.
Everything should have felt finished.
The kidnappers were captured.
The evidence was recovered.
Liam was alive.
But the letter in Dante’s hands opened another wound.
Sofia had discovered Vittorio’s weapons operation.
Her husband, Adrian Bell, had not merely abused her. He had been ordered to watch her, control her, and report whether she spoke to federal investigators.
When Sofia tried to leave, Vittorio told Adrian to make her death appear accidental.
She knew.
She wrote the letter because she believed she would not survive.
At the bottom of the final page were three lines.
Dante, you will want revenge.
Do not become them for me.
End it.
Dante folded the pages.
His hands shook once.
Then stopped.
“Vittorio will never leave custody,” Luca said.
Dante stared at the police vehicle.
“You have more faith in the system than experience permits.”
“The evidence is strong.”
“So was the evidence against Liam.”
Luca had no answer.
I approached carefully.
“What will you do?”
Dante looked at the letter.
“What I always do.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is the only one I have.”
The coldness had returned.
The wall.
I understood it now.
Dante did not become emotionless because he felt nothing.
He became still because what he felt frightened him.
“Sofia asked you to end it.”
“I intend to.”
“How?”
His eyes moved toward mine.
“You should go to your brother.”
“That sounded like a dismissal.”
“It was advice.”
“No. You’re trying to send me away before you do something you don’t want me to see.”
A muscle moved in his jaw.
“You believe you know me.”
“I believe I know that expression.”
“You have known me one night.”
“I knew Jake for two years and never knew him at all. Time isn’t proof.”
Police approached to take statements.
Vittorio smiled through the rear window of the vehicle.
He did not look defeated.
That frightened me.
A detective named Elena Ruiz separated us for questioning. She was direct, patient, and visibly unimpressed by Dante’s reputation.
When I finished describing the kidnapping, she closed her notebook.
“Mr. Moretti’s attorney is already challenging how the evidence was obtained.”
“Dante’s attorney?”
“Vittorio’s.”
“They share lawyers?”
“Not anymore. But this city has complicated loyalties.”
“What happens to Jake?”
“Kidnapping, aggravated assault, unlawful imprisonment, attempted murder, conspiracy. He won’t be released tonight.”
“Tonight?”
Detective Ruiz studied me.
“Men like Jake are dangerous when cornered, but men like Vittorio have spent decades building exits.”
“Then close them.”
“That is what I’m trying to do.”
She looked toward Liam.
“Your brother’s situation is different. Technically, he left correctional custody during a riot.”
“He was kidnapped by guards.”
“We believe him. But until internal affairs confirms it, he remains in custody.”
“No.”
“Emma—”
“He spent four years in prison for something he didn’t do.”
“And I want to correct that. But I cannot ignore procedure.”
Procedure.
The word used by people whose families were not being crushed beneath it.
Liam was handcuffed to the ambulance stretcher.
When he saw my face, he shook his head.
“Don’t fight them.”
“I’m not letting them take you back.”
“They’re taking me to a secure medical unit.”
“It’s still custody.”
“I can handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
He glanced at our father.
Thomas stood twenty feet away.
“He’s really alive.”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom know?”
“Yes.”
Liam laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“He was trying to protect us.”
“That sentence should be printed on our family crest.”
I could not argue.
Liam looked at my bruised face.
“What happened to you?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Jake?”
I nodded.
Liam closed his eyes.
“I brought him into our house.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I trusted him.”
“So did I.”
He looked toward Dante.
“And him?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“No.”
Liam squeezed my hand as far as the cuffs allowed.
“Be careful of men who solve problems by making people afraid.”
Before I could answer, officers took him away.
My father followed the ambulance after receiving permission.
Dante’s cars waited near the cemetery gate.
“You need medical care,” he told me.
“I’m going to my mother.”
“I will take you.”
We drove in silence.
Snow blurred the city.
At the hospital, my mother cried when she learned Liam was alive. She cried again when my father entered behind him on a video call arranged by the medical unit.
Our family reunion happened through a screen, under fluorescent lights, with guards visible in the background.
Nothing about it was beautiful.
But it was real.
At sunrise, Dante prepared to leave.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To secure the evidence.”
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
“You’re expecting someone to steal it.”
“I’m expecting several people to try.”
He walked toward the door.
“Dante.”
He stopped.
“What was in the rest of Sofia’s letter?”
His back remained toward me.
“She named the men involved in her death.”
“Was your father one of them?”
“No.”
Relief entered his voice, followed by shame for feeling it.
“Did she name anyone still working for you?”
Dante turned.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Before he answered, Luca rushed into the room.
“Boss, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Vittorio never reached the federal holding facility.”
My mother gripped the blanket.
“What happened?”
“The transport vehicle was found beneath the Kennedy Expressway. Two officers dead.”
“And Vittorio?” I asked.
“Gone.”
Dante’s phone rang.
He answered on speaker.
Vittorio’s voice filled the room.
“You should have read the second envelope first, nephew.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“What second envelope?”
“The one Eleanor never found.”
A photograph arrived on my phone.
It showed Marco’s hospital room.
His bed was empty.
Blood stained the floor.
May you like
Written across the wall were four words.
SOFIA WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING.
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