Chapter 2 - THE NAME SOPHIE WAS FORBIDDEN TO SIGN
The Moretti estate stood behind iron gates and twelve-foot stone walls.
It was less like a mansion and more like a fortress disguised as a home.
Security cameras tracked every vehicle.
Armed men watched from towers hidden among the trees.
The driveway curved through perfectly trimmed gardens until it reached a limestone house glowing beneath the storm.
Emma stepped from the SUV and stared up at the columns.
“I thought people only lived in places like this when they were hiding from taxes.”
Marco choked on a laugh.
Luca did not smile.
Sophie did.
She took Emma’s hand and pulled her toward the entrance.
Inside, the floors were white marble.
The ceilings were painted with angels.
Every surface looked priceless.
Nothing looked warm.
A row of staff members stood waiting in silence.
Their eyes moved from Luca to Sophie.
Then they settled on Emma.
Some looked confused.
Others looked offended.
A thin woman in a dark green dress descended the staircase.
Her diamond earrings caught the light.
Her dark hair was arranged in a flawless knot.
She was beautiful in the cold, polished way of a knife displayed behind glass.
“Luca.”
She moved toward him as though she intended to embrace him.
Luca stepped past her.
“Not now, Isabella.”
Isabella DeLuca stopped.
Her gaze moved to Sophie.
Then to Emma’s flour-streaked coat and damp hair.
“Who is this?”
Emma extended a hand.
“Emma Brooks.”
Isabella stared at the hand without taking it.
“I did not ask you.”
Sophie squeezed Emma’s fingers.
Emma smiled pleasantly.
“Then it’s lucky I answered.”
Marco looked down to hide his expression.
Isabella’s eyes narrowed.
She turned back to Luca.
“The entire family has been waiting in the dining room.”
“They can continue waiting.”
“Your uncle flew in from Sicily.”
“He owns a watch.”
“He came because of the anniversary.”
Luca’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But Emma saw it.
Sophie saw it too.
The little girl’s fingers tightened painfully around Emma’s hand.
Luca looked toward a gray-haired woman near the staircase.
“Teresa, prepare Sophie’s room.”
Sophie immediately signed.
Emma stays with me.
Teresa looked helplessly toward Luca.
Luca turned to Emma.
“You will stay tonight.”
Emma glanced at Sophie.
“On the couch.”
“There are thirty-two bedrooms.”
“That sounds unnecessary.”
“It is not a negotiation.”
Emma raised an eyebrow.
“You’re going to discover I’m terrible at those.”
Isabella stepped between them.
“She is an employee from a bakery.”
“No,” Luca said.
“She is Sophie’s guest.”
The distinction silenced the room.
Isabella’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Sophie pulled Emma upstairs before the argument could continue.
Her bedroom was enormous.
A painted night sky covered the ceiling.
Shelves overflowed with books and stuffed animals.
A miniature white piano stood near the windows.
Emma noticed something missing.
There were no photographs of Sophie’s mother.
Not one.
Sophie removed her cream coat and placed it carefully on a chair.
Then she walked to the far wall.
She pressed a hidden latch behind a bookshelf.
A narrow compartment opened.
Inside was a silver jewelry box.
Sophie took it to the bed.
Her hands moved slowly.
Papa does not know I have this.
Emma sat beside her.
What is it?
Sophie opened the lid.
Inside lay a small red notebook.
The first page was filled with hurried handwriting.
Emma recognized the phrase from the photograph.
THE DEBT LIVES.
Beneath it was a list of dates.
Several names had been crossed out.
One remained untouched.
VINCENT MORETTI.
Emma looked toward the closed bedroom door.
Who is Vincent?
Sophie pointed downward.
Papa’s uncle.
A chill moved across Emma’s skin.
She turned another page.
There was a drawing of a black wolf standing beside a burning car.
Beneath it, Sophie’s mother had written a warning.
If anything happens to me, the wolf is already inside the house.
Emma closed the notebook.
Where did you find this?
Mama gave it to me the night she died.
Did you show your father?
Sophie shook her head.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Mama told me not to trust anyone who wears the wolf.
A knock sounded at the door.
Sophie shoved the notebook under a pillow.
Luca entered.
He had removed his wet coat.
His white shirt sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
He looked less like a crime lord and more like an exhausted father who had not slept in years.
His gaze moved from Sophie to Emma.
“What did she tell you?”
Emma hated lying.
She hated frightening children more.
“She told me she doesn’t want to be alone.”
Luca looked at Sophie.
He tried to sign again.
I am here.
He formed the final movement incorrectly.
Instead of saying here, he signed something closer to prison.
Sophie’s mouth twitched.
Emma corrected him gently.
“Turn your palm inward.”
Luca stared at her.
Then he repeated the sign.
This time, Sophie nodded.
A silence followed.
It was heavy with everything father and daughter had never been able to say.
“Why don’t you know ASL?” Emma asked.
Luca’s expression hardened.
“That is not your concern.”
“It becomes my concern when your daughter has to depend on strangers to understand her.”
“I hired tutors.”
“She needs a father.”
The words landed harder than Emma intended.
Luca went still.
Sophie looked down.
Emma regretted the cruelty immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Luca’s voice was low.
“You are correct.”
He sat on the edge of the chair across from Sophie.
“My wife handled everything.”
His eyes moved toward the dark windows.
“After she died, Sophie stopped speaking completely.”
Emma looked at him carefully.
“She didn’t stop speaking.”
Luca looked back.
“She stopped speaking to people who refused to listen.”
Pain crossed his face.
This time, he could not hide it.
Downstairs, a bell chimed.
Luca stood.
“Dinner.”
Sophie signed quickly.
I do not want to see Uncle Vincent.
Luca understood the name.
His posture changed.
“Why?”
Sophie looked at Emma.
Emma felt the hidden notebook beneath the pillow.
Before either of them could answer, a gunshot cracked through the estate.
The bedroom window exploded inward.
Luca threw himself over Sophie.
Emma dropped to the floor as glass rained across the carpet.
Men shouted in the hallway.
A second shot struck the wall above the bed.
Emma crawled toward Sophie.
Luca pulled a handgun from beneath his shirt.
“Stay down.”
Marco burst through the door.
“Shooter in the east garden.”
“Seal the property.”
Luca looked toward the shattered window.
Something had been tied around the second bullet.
A strip of black fabric fluttered against the wall.
Embroidered into the fabric was a silver wolf.
Sophie stared at it.
Then she signed one terrifying sentence.
That is the symbol on Uncle Vincent’s ring.
The bedroom door opened again.
An older man stood calmly in the hallway.
Silver hair framed his smiling face.
A wolf-shaped ring gleamed on his right hand.
“Luca,” Vincent Moretti said.
May you like
“Why is everyone pointing guns inside my family’s home?”
---
