Chapter 3 - A FATHER'S PRICE
For one second, nobody moved.
Sophia stared at the empty bed.
Then she screamed Lily’s name.
I had heard gunshots in enclosed rooms. I had heard men beg. I had heard my father die with my hand wrapped around his.
Nothing I had ever heard frightened me the way Sophia’s voice did in that moment.
She tried to get out of bed.
I caught her before her feet touched the floor.
“Let me go.”
“You have a concussion.”
“My daughter is gone.”
“Our daughter.”
The words came out before I could decide whether I had the right to say them.
Sophia froze.
So did I.
Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t argue.
That almost broke me.
Enzo was already on the phone, shouting orders to security. Mrs. Alvarez came running from the corridor.
“I only left for two minutes,” she said, horrified. “She wanted cocoa. I went downstairs and—”
“Who came into this wing?” I asked.
“No one. I didn’t see anyone.”
“Then someone used the servants’ stairs.”
The Moretti house had been built in 1912 by a banker who apparently believed servants should move through walls. Hidden corridors connected the kitchen, guest wing, study, and rear entrance.
My father had loved that feature.
Tonight, I hated it.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Every person in the room went silent.
I answered.
“Where is she?”
Carlo’s voice came through calm and almost bored.
“You should learn to say hello.”
“If you touch that child—”
“I have no interest in hurting a three-year-old.”
“You already took her.”
“I removed leverage before you did.”
Sophia grabbed my wrist.
“Put it on speaker.”
I did.
“Carlo,” she said. “If you hurt Lily, the ledger goes to the FBI tonight.”
A pause.
Then Carlo laughed.
“There you are, Sophia. Still dramatic.”
“Let me hear her.”
“You’ll hear her when I know you brought what I asked for.”
“Let me hear my daughter.”
Another pause.
Then a small voice came through the phone.
“Mommy?”
Sophia covered her mouth.
“I’m here, baby.”
“The man said we’re going for a ride.”
“I know. Are you okay?”
“I lost my mitten.”
Sophia started crying silently.
“It’s okay. We’ll get another one.”
“I want you.”
“I’m coming.”
Carlo took the phone back.
“Thirty minutes. Cormorant Terminal. Bring the Carter ledger. No police.”
The call ended.
I looked at Enzo.
“You know it?”
“Old ferry warehouse near Glen Cove. Vitale property through a holding company.”
Of course it was.
Sophia pulled the blankets aside again.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
She looked at me like she wanted to tear my throat out.
“You don’t get to tell me that.”
“He wants the ledger.”
“And I know where it is.”
“So tell me.”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“If Carlo gets it, people could die.”
“My daughter is already in his car.”
“Our daughter,” she shot back.
I stopped.
She breathed hard.
Then, quieter, she said, “Don’t use that word only when you want to win an argument.”
I deserved that too.
I stepped back.
“Fine. Where is the ledger?”
“In a safe-deposit box in Manhattan.”
“Original?”
“Yes.”
“Copies?”
She hesitated.
I saw the answer.
“You made copies.”
“My mother died because she trusted paper too much.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
Enzo looked toward the window.
“We have twenty-seven minutes.”
“Then we don’t need the original,” I said.
Sophia understood immediately.
“You want to bluff him.”
“I want my daughter back.”
“And after that?”
“After that, I decide what to burn.”
Her face hardened.
“No.”
“What?”
“You don’t decide.”
“This involves my family.”
“It involved my mother before it involved you.”
I stared at her.
Four years ago, Sophia had been the only person in my life who talked to me like my name didn’t matter.
Apparently time had not cured her of the habit.
Good.
“Then we decide together,” I said.
She studied me.
“Together?”
“For Lily.”
That was the first thing I said all night that she seemed willing to trust.
Ten minutes later, Enzo drove. I sat in the passenger seat. Sophia was in back with Isabella.
My former fiancée had refused to stay behind.
I had not yet decided whether she was brave or insane.
Probably both.
Snow hit the windshield faster than the wipers could clear it.
Cormorant Terminal sat behind a chain-link fence near the abandoned ferry docks. It had been closed for eight years after a redevelopment deal failed.
My father had once called it wasted waterfront.
Carlo had called it patient money.
At 10:51 p.m., we pulled through a side gate Isabella knew would be unlocked.
I looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“My father meets people here.”
“What people?”
“The kind he doesn’t invite to dinner.”
Sophia gave a bitter laugh.
“So the families really are alike.”
I turned in my seat.
“No. They’re not.”
She met my eyes.
“You sure?”
I didn’t answer.
That question would follow me longer than I knew.
Inside the warehouse, a single row of industrial lights burned above the loading floor.
Carlo stood near the old ticket office.
Two men were with him.
Lily sat on a folding chair wearing a man’s oversized coat over her cream cardigan.
Her feet didn’t touch the floor.
The moment Sophia saw her, she started forward.
One of Carlo’s men stepped in front of Lily.
I caught Sophia’s hand.
She looked at me.
“Wait.”
Every instinct in me wanted to cross the room and end the problem the way men in my family had ended problems for generations.
But Lily was watching.
So I kept my hands open.
Carlo smiled.
“Look at you, Dominic. Domestic already.”
“Give her to Sophia.”
“Ledger first.”
I held up a leather portfolio Enzo had taken from my study.
Carlo’s eyes fixed on it.
“You think I came here with the original?”
“I think you came because you finally found something you can’t intimidate.”
His gaze moved to Lily.
My body went cold.
“Careful.”
Carlo shrugged.
“I told you. The child is not in danger.”
“You kidnapped her from my house.”
“I borrowed her because adults are more honest when consequences are visible.”
Sophia stepped forward.
“You knew my mother.”
Carlo looked at her.
“I knew of her.”
“She worked for you.”
“She worked for Moretti Maritime.”
“She kept your books.”
“She kept many people’s books.”
“And then she died.”
Carlo’s expression didn’t move.
“People die.”
I saw Sophia’s face change.
I moved before she could.
“Not tonight.”
Carlo extended his hand.
“The ledger.”
I tossed the portfolio onto the floor halfway between us.
One of his men picked it up and carried it to him.
Carlo opened it.
Inside were photocopies of old redevelopment contracts from my father’s study.
His face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
“You disappoint me.”
“Get used to it.”
He nodded to the man beside Lily.
The man reached inside his coat.
Enzo’s hand moved at the same time.
“Don’t,” Isabella shouted.
Everyone froze.
She walked past me.
Straight toward her father.
“Give Lily back.”
Carlo stared at her.
“Go home.”
“I am home.”
“Isabella.”
“You used me.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That is a childish word.”
“You pushed this engagement for two years. You kept saying the Moretti partnership protected both families.”
“It does.”
“From what?”
Silence.
Isabella laughed, but there were tears in her eyes.
“From the investigation?”
Carlo’s expression changed.
I looked at her.
“What investigation?”
She did not look away from her father.
“Federal grand jury. Eastern District. Shipping contracts, port fees, shell companies.”
Enzo swore softly.
“You knew?” I asked.
“Not until last month.”
Carlo’s voice sharpened.
“Enough.”
“No,” Isabella said. “You told me marrying Dominic would make certain records privileged and certain boards easier to control.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
Our engagement had been announced six months earlier.
Three months after Carlo persuaded me to combine two port-management subsidiaries.
I had thought the marriage came first.
It hadn’t.
The merger had.
“Give me the child,” Isabella said.
Carlo stared at his daughter.
Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
The man beside Lily stepped away.
Sophia ran.
Lily flew out of the chair and into her arms.
“Mommy!”
Sophia dropped to her knees and held her so tightly Lily squeaked.
I had never seen anything more beautiful.
Or more terrifying.
Because while everyone looked at them, Carlo moved.
He kicked the leather portfolio toward one of his men, turned, and disappeared through the rear loading door.
Enzo started after him.
I grabbed his shoulder.
“Let him go.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
“Lily first.”
“Dom, we can catch him.”
“Not if catching him means leaving them here.”
For a second, Enzo looked stunned.
Then he nodded.
That choice would cost me later.
I would make it again.
Outside, an engine roared.
Carlo disappeared into the snow.
Sophia stood with Lily in her arms.
The little girl looked at me over her mother’s shoulder.
“Did you come get me too?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The question was innocent.
The answer was not.
I looked at Sophia.
She gave me the smallest nod.
So I told Lily the first truth she deserved.
“Because I’m your father.”
Her eyes widened.
She looked at Sophia.
“Really?”
Sophia’s eyes filled.
“Really.”
Lily considered this with the seriousness only a three-year-old could give to a life-changing fact.
Then she reached one hand toward me.
I stepped closer.
She touched my cheek.
“You look old.”
Enzo made a choking sound behind me.
Sophia laughed.
I laughed too.
It was the first honest sound I had made all night.
Then Isabella spoke.
“Dominic.”
I turned.
She stood several feet away, snow blowing through the open loading door behind her.
“There’s something else.”
“Of course there is.”
She swallowed.
“My father didn’t arrange our engagement because he wanted to protect his company.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted access to yours.”
“For the records?”
“No.”
May you like
Her face went pale.
“For the money he had already hidden there.”
