Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF A DAUGHTER
Luca did not shout.
That frightened Emma more than anger would have.
He stared at the message on the floor.
Then he looked at the empty corridor where his daughter had disappeared.
Every trace of humanity left his face.
“Seal Manhattan.”
Marco spoke into his radio immediately.
“Close the bridges.”
“Lock the tunnels.”
“Stop every vehicle connected to Vincent, Isabella, or anyone at that table.”
Vincent emerged from the dining room.
His jacket was torn near the shoulder.
A line of blood crossed his cheek.
“This is madness.”
Luca turned his gun toward him.
“Where is she?”
Vincent stopped.
“You think I kidnapped my own grandniece?”
“I think you know why my wife was murdered.”
Isabella appeared behind him.
She was crying.
Her makeup had begun to run.
“Luca, please.”
He looked at her as though she were a stranger.
“You wore Elena’s bracelet for four years.”
“She gave it to me.”
“You lied to the police.”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
Isabella looked at Vincent again.
Luca followed her gaze.
Vincent’s face hardened.
“Do not be weak now.”
The words escaped before he could take them back.
Isabella began shaking.
Emma understood.
Vincent did not protect Isabella.
He controlled her.
Luca stepped closer.
“What did he make you do?”
Isabella’s lips parted.
Vincent moved suddenly.
Marco struck him across the chest and pinned him against the wall.
“Speak,” Luca ordered.
Isabella looked toward the blood-red message.
“I don’t know where Sophie is.”
Luca raised his gun.
“I believe you.”
Relief flashed across her face.
Then Luca continued.
“But you know who took her.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“A man named Rafe Calder.”
Marco’s expression changed.
“He worked for Elena’s father.”
“No,” Isabella whispered.
“He worked for Elena.”
Luca stared at her.
“My wife had no soldiers.”
“She had one.”
Isabella’s voice broke.
“Rafe protected her before she married you.”
“She sent him away when Sophie was born.”
“Because Vincent threatened to kill him.”
Vincent struggled against Marco.
“She is lying.”
“Be quiet,” Luca said.
Vincent kept talking.
“Elena was unstable.”
Luca crossed the distance between them.
He pressed the barrel of the gun beneath Vincent’s chin.
“Say one more word about my wife.”
Vincent became silent.
Emma hurried upstairs with two guards.
Sophie’s bedroom smelled of rain and broken glass.
Emma reached beneath the pillow.
The red notebook was gone.
Her stomach dropped.
She searched beneath the mattress.
Nothing.
She opened the hidden compartment.
Empty.
One of the guards looked toward her.
“Was it here?”
“Yes.”
Emma examined the bookshelf.
A thin line of fresh dust marked the edge of the hidden latch.
Someone had opened it after Sophie and Emma left the room.
There was another object inside the compartment.
A small digital recorder.
Emma pressed play.
Elena’s voice filled the room.
“If Luca is hearing this, then I failed.”
Emma froze.
The recording continued.
“Vincent believes the Moretti empire belongs to him.”
“He has been moving money through the DeLuca family for years.”
“Isabella knows enough to destroy him.”
“That is why he forced her into Luca’s life.”
Emma looked toward the guards.
Both men had gone pale.
Elena took a shaky breath on the recording.
“The debt is not money.”
“The debt is blood.”
“Luca’s father did not die from illness.”
“Vincent poisoned him.”
“And now Vincent plans to kill Luca and use Sophie as the legal heir he can control.”
The recording crackled.
A door opened in the background.
Elena whispered one final sentence.
“If Vincent discovers Sophie understands sign language, he will know she saw everything.”
The audio ended.
Emma ran downstairs.
Luca stood exactly where she had left him.
Vincent remained pinned to the wall.
Emma held up the recorder.
“Your wife knew.”
Luca listened without moving.
When Elena’s voice ended, silence spread through the corridor.
Vincent smiled.
It was small.
Cold.
Almost proud.
“You always were slow, Luca.”
Marco tightened his grip.
Vincent continued.
“Your father trusted me.”
“Elena suspected me.”
“And you were too busy building your empire to see what was happening inside your own house.”
Luca struck him once.
The blow broke Vincent’s nose.
Blood spilled across his mouth.
He laughed.
“Kill me.”
“Then you will never find the girl.”
Luca grabbed his collar.
“You said you did not take her.”
“I did not.”
“But I know who did.”
Emma’s phone rang.
Everyone looked at her.
The number was blocked.
She answered.
A video appeared.
Sophie sat tied to a wooden chair in a dark room.
Her face was bruised.
Her hands were free.
The kidnapper wanted her to sign.
A masked man stood behind her.
He held a gun against the side of her head.
Sophie looked directly into the camera.
Her hands moved carefully.
Emma, do not bring the notebook.
He will kill Papa.
The masked man struck the back of the chair.
Sophie flinched.
Emma’s eyes filled with tears.
A distorted voice came through the phone.
“Midnight.”
“Pier Seventeen.”
“The notebook in exchange for the child.”
“No police.”
“No Moretti soldiers.”
“Only the baker.”
The call ended.
Luca took the phone from Emma.
“You are not going.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
“They asked for me.”
“They will kill you.”
Emma looked at the frozen image of Sophie.
“They might.”
“That is not bravery.”
“It is stupidity.”
Emma turned on him.
“Your daughter is tied to a chair because every powerful person in her life treated her like something to protect instead of someone to understand.”
Luca’s eyes flashed.
“You know nothing about my life.”
“I know she trusted me with the notebook.”
“She trusted me because I listened.”
Luca stepped closer.
His voice dropped.
“You have known her for less than a day.”
“And somehow that was long enough for her to tell me more than she told her own father.”
The words hit him hard.
Emma regretted them.
She did not take them back.
Luca looked away.
When he spoke again, the fury had drained from his voice.
“I buried her mother.”
“I watched Sophie stop smiling.”
“I learned how to destroy every enemy except the silence between my daughter and me.”
Emma’s anger softened.
“Then help me bring her home.”
Luca studied her face.
Finally, he nodded.
The plan was simple.
Emma would carry a false notebook into Pier Seventeen.
Luca’s men would hide beyond the perimeter.
Marco would track Sophie’s emergency bracelet.
Isabella would identify Rafe Calder.
Vincent would remain under guard at the estate.
At eleven fifty-eight, Emma stepped onto the abandoned pier.
Rain hammered the shipping containers.
The East River rolled black beneath the dock.
She carried a red notebook inside a clear plastic bag.
A warehouse door opened.
“Inside,” a voice ordered.
Emma entered alone.
Sophie sat beneath a hanging light.
Her wrists were tied.
A masked man stood behind her.
Emma raised the notebook.
“Let her go.”
“Put it on the floor.”
“Let me see her walk first.”
The man laughed.
“You think this is a negotiation?”
“I think you chose me because you believed I was harmless.”
Emma took another step.
“That was your first mistake.”
The man removed his mask.
He was in his forties.
A jagged scar crossed one eyebrow.
Isabella had identified him correctly.
Rafe Calder.
Sophie stared at him with pure hatred.
Emma signed discreetly near her waist.
Can you run?
Sophie answered with one finger.
Yes.
Rafe saw the movement.
He raised his gun.
“No signing.”
Emma dropped the notebook.
Rafe bent to retrieve it.
Sophie kicked the chair backward.
Emma lunged.
She drove her shoulder into Rafe’s chest.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Sophie rolled across the floor.
Emma grabbed the weapon.
Rafe struck her across the face.
She fell beside the notebook.
He tore open the plastic bag.
His expression twisted.
“This is fake.”
The warehouse doors burst open.
Luca entered with Marco and six armed men.
Rafe seized Sophie.
He pressed the gun beneath her chin.
“Drop your weapons.”
Luca obeyed first.
The others followed.
Rafe dragged Sophie toward a rear exit.
“You should have stayed buried in your empire, Moretti.”
Luca’s voice remained steady.
“Take me instead.”
Rafe smiled.
“That was Elena’s mistake too.”
Sophie stared at Emma.
Her hands moved once against Rafe’s sleeve.
A single sign.
Behind.
Emma turned.
Vincent stood on the overhead catwalk.
He held a rifle aimed directly at Luca’s back.
“Luca!”
Emma ran.
Vincent fired.
The shot echoed through the warehouse.
Emma slammed into Luca.
The bullet meant for his heart tore into her shoulder.
She hit the concrete floor.
Luca caught her before her head struck.
For one stunned second, no one moved.
Emma looked down at the blood spreading across her coat.
Then she looked at Luca.
“Get Sophie.”
Her eyes closed.
May you like
And Luca Moretti roared her name like a man watching his entire world die twice.
---
