Chapter 2 - THE NIGHT SOFIA DIED
Sofia had died eight years earlier on a rainy October night.
The official story had been simple.
Too simple.
She left a charity dinner at 10:42 p.m.
Her driver called in sick.
Sofia decided to drive herself home.
At 11:17 p.m., her Mercedes went through a guardrail on Hudson Ridge Road.
The car rolled down an embankment and caught fire.
By the time emergency crews arrived, Sofia was dead.
Lucy had been born three weeks earlier.
For months afterward, Raffaele barely remembered sleeping.
He remembered bottles.
Court meetings.
Funeral flowers.
Lucy crying at three in the morning.
He remembered standing beside his daughter’s crib and wondering how a child could lose someone she had barely met.
And he remembered Celeste.
His younger sister had been there every day.
She arranged the funeral.
She handled the police.
She dismissed the household staff who had “failed to protect Sofia.”
She even convinced Raffaele not to read the full crash report.
“You have a newborn daughter,” Celeste had said.
“Don’t torture yourself with details you can’t change.”
At the time, he had thanked her.
Now he wanted to tear the past apart with his bare hands.
Marcus leaned against the broken billiard table.
“You’re making something out of nothing.”
Raffaele stared at him.
“You booked a flight out of the country.”
“We were going away.”
“With cash?”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
Raffaele pointed toward one suitcase.
The zipper had split when Marcus crashed into the table.
Bundles of hundred-dollar bills were visible inside.
Celeste closed her eyes.
Marcus shrugged.
“People carry cash.”
“Three hundred thousand dollars?”
Celeste whispered, “Raffaele, please.”
He turned on her.
“You told me Sofia’s death destroyed you.”
“It did.”
“You held my daughter while I buried her mother.”
“I know.”
“You slept in Sofia’s room because you said you couldn’t stand the thought of it being empty.”
Celeste’s voice cracked.
“I know.”
Raffaele stepped closer.
“So why were you planning to disappear tonight?”
Marcus answered for her.
“Because your sister finally decided she was tired of living under your thumb.”
Raffaele looked at him.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Marcus smiled.
That was another mistake.
Raffaele grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.
“Then stop speaking for her.”
Celeste rushed forward.
“Raffaele!”
He didn’t look away from Marcus.
“Did you kill Sofia?”
Marcus laughed once.
“You think I killed your wife?”
“I think you’re afraid of the question.”
“I wasn’t even in New York.”
Raffaele froze.
Marcus’s face changed.
He had said too much.
Raffaele released him.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“I never said where Sofia died.”
Everybody knew Sofia died in New York.
But only people close to the family knew the Morettis had initially hidden the location because the road ran near one of their private properties.
Marcus stepped away.
“You’re reaching.”
“Maybe.”
Raffaele took out his phone.
He called his security chief.
“Dante.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Find every record from the night Sofia died. Police reports. Highway cameras. Medical examiner notes. Insurance. Phone logs. Everything.”
Celeste suddenly panicked.
“No.”
Raffaele turned.
She stared at the phone like it was a loaded gun.
“Why not?”
“Because it won’t bring her back.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Celeste’s voice shook.
“You have Lucy. You have your life. You rebuilt everything. Don’t destroy it.”
Raffaele looked at his sister for a long moment.
Then he said, “If my life was built on a lie, it deserves to be destroyed.”
Marcus muttered something under his breath.
Raffaele looked over.
“What?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Raffaele walked closer.
“What did you say?”
Marcus met his eyes.
“I said Sofia should’ve kept her mouth shut.”
Celeste gasped.
Marcus realized it instantly.
Too late.
Raffaele didn’t move.
“What did my wife know?”
Marcus’s face drained of color.
Celeste whispered, “Marcus, you idiot.”
And that was when Raffaele understood the first terrible piece of the truth.
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Sofia hadn’t died because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She had died because she knew something.
