Chapter 6 - THE THIRD WISH
Maria reached the north wing before I did.
I had never seen anyone move that fast in a dress and kitchen shoes.
The door to Sophie’s room stood open.
A guard lay unconscious in the hall.
Alive.
Another guard was missing.
The window was locked from inside.
No broken glass.
No forced door.
Hidden passage.
Of course.
Caesar tore at the panel behind an old wardrobe.
His paws had already ripped upholstery from the wall.
I pulled the wardrobe aside.
A narrow opening appeared.
Another branch of the old corridor network.
I turned on Enzo.
“You searched every entrance.”
“We thought we did.”
“Thought.”
He went pale.
Maria entered the passage before anyone could stop her.
I caught up.
“Stay behind me.”
“No.”
“Maria.”
“That is my daughter.”
“And the person who took her may be armed.”
“Then move faster.”
I did.
Caesar led.
The corridor descended toward the old greenhouse.
A piece of gold glitter clung to the wall.
Sophie.
She was leaving a trail.
Maria saw it.
“My God.”
Another speck near the floor.
Then another.
The child had enough presence of mind to rub glitter from her costume while being carried.
“She is helping us,” I said.
Maria’s face crumpled for one second.
Then hardened.
The trail ended at a service gate.
Security footage outside showed a florist van leaving eleven minutes earlier.
License plate cloned.
We had cameras at the road.
Traffic feeds.
City cameras.
My organization moved before police would have finished paperwork.
Still, every minute felt like a knife.
Maria stood in the security room while maps filled screens.
She hugged herself.
I wanted to tell her Sophie would be fine.
I did not lie.
Instead I said, “We will find her.”
“How?”
“She left glitter.”
Maria looked at me.
“She is five.”
“I know.”
“She thinks this is a game.”
“Maybe that keeps her calm.”
“You do not get to sound calm.”
The accusation hit.
I turned.
She was crying now.
Angry tears.
“Your world did this.”
“Yes.”
“My husband died because of your family.”
“Yes.”
“My daughter was taken because she walked into your study.”
“Yes.”
“And you stand there like this is another business problem.”
I crossed the room.
“Because if I stop standing, I become useless.”
She stared.
I lowered my voice.
“Ten years ago, I stopped functioning for exactly six minutes after they told me Luca was dead.”
Maria’s anger shifted.
“I remember every second. I broke a glass. I hit Marco. I put my fist through a wall. Then I ordered a war against the wrong people.”
Silence.
“I will not do that with Sophie.”
Her face changed.
Not forgiveness.
Understanding.
My phone vibrated.
A vehicle match.
The florist van entered an industrial district in Red Hook.
Then disappeared.
We left immediately.
Maria came.
I did not argue.
Halfway there, an unknown number called.
I answered.
Sophie’s voice.
“Mister?”
Maria grabbed my arm.
“Sophie!”
“Mommy?”
The child sounded frightened but not crying.
“Baby, where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
A man’s voice in the background.
Then Sophie whispered.
“They said I get one phone call because I’m little.”
I closed my eyes.
Whoever had taken her wanted us to hear.
“Sophie,” I said, “remember the fairy rules?”
“Yes.”
“You still owe me one wish.”
Maria looked at me.
Sophie breathed into the phone.
“What do you want?”
My last wish.
The impossible one.
The right answer arrived.
“I wish you would stay brave until I come get you.”
Silence.
Then Sophie whispered, “That’s easy.”
My throat closed.
“I know.”
“Wish granted.”
The line went dead.
Maria covered her mouth.
I kept driving.
She looked at me.
“That was your last wish?”
“Yes.”
“You could have wished to know where she was.”
“She needed it more.”
Maria stared out the window.
After a moment, she said, “Thank you.”
I did not answer.
I did not trust my voice.
At Red Hook, the van sat abandoned beside a warehouse.
Inside we found Sophie’s broken wing.
Glitter.
No child.
Caesar sniffed the fabric.
Then pulled toward the river.
A boat.
Marco arrived behind us.
“We found traffic from Conti Security.”
“Where?”
“Private chapel property in Staten Island. Decommissioned convent near the shoreline.”
“Why there?”
“Bianca owns the holding company.”
Good.
A location.
Perhaps too easy.
Maria heard.
“We go.”
Marco looked at me.
I nodded.
Twenty minutes later we were on the expressway.
My phone rang again.
Isabella.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
Her voice sounded wrong.
“Driving.”
“My father knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That you found Gabriele Russo’s recording.”
I looked at Maria.
“How?”
“Bianca called me.”
“Where is Sophie?”
A pause.
“Alessandro, listen to me.”
“Where is she?”
“St. Agatha’s.”
The convent.
“She is alive.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I am here.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
Maria heard enough.
Her face went white.
“You took her.”
“No,” Isabella said through the phone. “I came to stop them.”
“Them.”
“My father and Bianca.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You should not.”
For the first time in fourteen months, Isabella sounded completely honest.
“But Luca did.”
That hurt.
“Explain.”
“Not on the phone.”
“Put Sophie on.”
“I cannot.”
“Then you have thirty seconds before I assume you are part of it.”
“She is in the chapel. Two men. Bianca is with her. My father is on his way.”
“And you?”
“Outside.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
Isabella’s voice broke slightly.
“Alessandro, I tried to warn Luca ten years ago. He thought he had time.”
My hands tightened on the wheel.
“Did you know your father ordered the hit?”
“Not until after.”
“And you said nothing.”
“My father told me if I spoke, he would kill my mother.”
“Your mother died eight years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I was afraid.”
There it was.
Not strategy.
Not loyalty.
Fear.
I understood it.
I did not forgive it.
“Why marry me?”
“To protect what was left.”
“Of your family?”
“Yes.”
“At my expense.”
“Yes.”
Maria looked at me.
No judgment.
Just listening.
Isabella continued.
“Luca was supposed to marry me. Our fathers arranged it.”
“I know now.”
“He refused after he found the route theft.”
“Why?”
“Because my father was selling Moretti schedules to the Bellandis. Luca said marriage would make the betrayal impossible to expose.”
“And you?”
“I loved him.”
The road blurred for half a second.
I forced focus.
Isabella loved Luca.
The woman I was supposed to marry had once been promised to my brother.
My father knew.
My mother probably knew.
Everyone had built a wall of silence around me and called it protection.
“Stay outside,” I said.
“Alessandro—”
“If Sophie is hurt, there will be no Conti alliance left to save.”
“There is no alliance left now.”
Good.
At least one truth.
We reached St. Agatha’s at 11:36 p.m.
Twenty-four minutes before Sophie’s fairy wishes expired.
Ridiculous thought.
Still, I looked at the time.
The chapel sat beyond dead trees.
One stained-glass window glowed.
Maria tried to run toward the door.
I held her back.
“Wait.”
“She is inside.”
“So are guns.”
“I do not care.”
“I do.”
The words stopped both of us.
Maria looked at my hand on her arm.
I released her.
“Please.”
I had not used that word often enough in my life.
“Give me five minutes.”
She nodded.
Isabella stepped from behind a stone wall.
Black dress torn at the hem.
Gun in hand.
Maria lunged.
I caught her.
“You knew!”
Isabella lowered the weapon immediately.
“I did not take her.”
“You brought this to us.”
“Yes.”
Isabella looked at me.
“Bianca has the child. She wants the notebook and recording.”
“Why?”
“Because my father is coming to destroy both and anyone who heard them.”
“Including you.”
“Yes.”
She smiled bitterly.
“Family.”
From inside the chapel came a crash.
Then Sophie shouted.
“Caesar!”
The dog ripped free from Enzo’s grip and ran.
So did Maria.
So did I.
While Marco’s people traced the florist van, Maria and I stood in the garage beneath a row of armored vehicles.
She looked at them and shook her head.
“How many cars does one man need?”
“Those are not all mine.”
“That did not answer the question.”
“Six.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“Some are operational.”
“You sound like a brochure for organized crime.”
I nearly smiled.
Then she looked at the empty space beside us and her expression changed.
“Sophie hates sleeping without the hallway light.”
“We will bring her home before she needs one.”
“You cannot know that.”
“No.”
I forced myself not to promise.
Maria rubbed both palms over her face.
“She is afraid of thunder.”
“I did not know.”
“She pretends she is not.”
“Like her mother.”
Maria looked at me.
“Like you.”
That landed.
We waited in silence.
Then she said, “When Sophie was three, she got lost in a supermarket for four minutes.”
I turned.
“I almost tore the building apart. Four minutes.”
“This is longer.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do when you found her?”
“I yelled.”
Maria gave a broken laugh.
“Then I cried in the parking lot where she could not see.”
“Why hide it?”
“Because mothers are supposed to make children feel safe.”
“Who makes mothers feel safe?”
She stared at me.
I had not meant the sentence to sound intimate.
It did.
Maria looked away first.
“No one, usually.”
I wanted to tell her that answer was unacceptable.
But safety offered by a man like me could easily become another cage.
So I said nothing.
When the phone finally rang with the Staten Island location, Maria reached for my hand without looking.
I held on.
Neither of us mentioned it when we let go.
May you like
Fairy rules were over.
Now came mine.
