Chapter 7 - Our GirlAt 3:42 in the morning, I sat inside a black SUV two blocks from Bellweather Cold Storage and discovered there was a kind of fear beyond panic.
Panic was loud.
It made your hands shake.
Made your heart race.
Made your mind invent horrors.
This was different.
This fear was so complete it became silence.
Dante sat beside me wearing a communication earpiece.
Antonio, who had recovered from the drugging, sat in front.
Four vehicles waited nearby.
Federal agents waited farther away.
Dante had insisted they remain out of sight until Lily, Marco, and Lucia were confirmed safe.
Nobody loved that plan.
Especially the federal agents.
Dante did not care.
He had told them exactly where they could put their objections.
I would have laughed under different circumstances.
“Thermal shows six people downstairs,” Antonio said.
“Three upstairs.”
Dante looked at the floor plans.
“Children?”
“Two smaller signatures in northeast room, second floor.”
My lungs finally worked.
“They’re there.”
Dante took my hand.
“Yes.”
“Lucia?”
“One adult signature near them.”
I closed my eyes.
Thank God.
Dante spoke into the microphone.
“Team one, east entrance. Team two, loading dock. Nobody moves until confirmation.”
A voice responded.
I stared at the warehouse.
“I should be closer.”
“No.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Then why ask?”
“Tradition.”
His thumb moved over my knuckles.
“Evie.”
I looked at him.
“If anything goes wrong—”
“No goodbye speeches.”
“It isn’t.”
“It sounds like one.”
“I was going to say stay with Antonio.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I mean, yes, I’ll stay here.”
“Evie.”
“But if Lily comes out—”
“Antonio brings her directly to you.”
I nodded.
Dante leaned forward and kissed me.
Not desperate.
Not final.
A promise.
Then he opened the door.
I grabbed his sleeve.
He looked back.
“Bring our girl home.”
His eyes softened.
“I will.”
He disappeared into the darkness.
The next twelve minutes lasted twelve years.
Voices came through Antonio’s radio.
Movement.
Positions.
A door opened.
Another team entered.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
I stopped breathing.
Antonio listened.
“What’s happening?”
He raised one hand.
Then a voice came over the radio.
“Second floor clear.”
My stomach dropped.
Clear?
“What does clear mean?”
Antonio didn’t answer.
The voice continued.
“Room empty. Repeat, room empty.”
“No.”
I reached for the door.
Antonio locked it.
“Mrs. Moretti—”
“She was there.”
“Stay inside.”
“Lily was there!”
Dante’s voice cut through the radio.
“They moved them.”
My blood went cold.
Then another man shouted.
“Movement south corridor.”
Gunfire cracked through the radio.
I flinched.
Antonio reached under his jacket.
More gunfire.
Then silence.
“Dante?”
I whispered.
No response.
“Dante?”
Antonio spoke into his microphone.
“Boss, status.”
Nothing.
My hand went to the door.
Antonio blocked me.
“No.”
“You don’t know if he’s okay.”
“Which is exactly why you stay here.”
Before I could argue, Dante’s voice came through.
“I’m fine.”
I almost sobbed.
Then:
“Found Lucia.”
Everything stopped.
“Alive?”
Dante answered immediately.
“Alive.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth.
“Children?”
A pause.
“No.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Antonio turned toward me.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
I hated that title.
I hated the warehouse.
I hated Bellandi.
I hated every second my daughter was somewhere without me.
Then Dante spoke again.
“Lucia says they took the children fifteen minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“She doesn’t know.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Bellandi had anticipated us.
We had found the warehouse too easily.
Because he wanted us to.
Antonio swore under his breath.
My phone rang.
I stared at the screen.
Dante.
I answered.
“Tell me.”
“Lucia’s okay.”
His breathing was heavy.
“She fought one of them when they moved the kids. They locked her in a utility room.”
“Where are Lily and Marco?”
“Bellandi took them.”
“Where?”
“We’re figuring it out.”
“That means you don’t know.”
“Not yet.”
I started crying.
Silently.
Dante heard anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I wiped my face.
“No. We keep going.”
A faint sound came from the warehouse.
An alarm.
Then Antonio’s head snapped toward the road.
“What?”
He grabbed binoculars.
A delivery van had turned the corner.
White.
Unmarked.
Driving slowly.
Too slowly.
Antonio reached for the radio.
“Possible vehicle approaching north perimeter.”
The van stopped fifty yards from us.
My pulse thundered.
The rear doors opened.
A small figure climbed out.
Pink pajamas.
Bare feet.
My heart stopped.
“Lily.”
I was out of the SUV before Antonio could stop me.
“Mrs. Moretti!”
I ran.
“Lily!”
Her head lifted.
“Mommy!”
She ran too.
I reached her in the middle of the road and dropped to my knees.
She hit me so hard we both nearly fell.
I wrapped every part of myself around her.
My baby.
Warm.
Alive.
Crying.
“Mommy.”
“I’ve got you.”
I buried my face in her hair.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
Dante came running from the warehouse.
He stopped when he saw us.
For one second, he looked like his legs might fail.
Then Lily saw him.
“Dante!”
He reached us and dropped beside us.
His arms closed around both of us.
Lily cried into his neck.
“You came.”
“I promised.”
His voice broke.
“I promised.”
For several seconds, the entire world disappeared.
Then I realized something.
“Marco.”
Lily looked up.
My stomach dropped.
“Where’s Marco?”
Her face crumpled.
“The bad man kept him.”
Dante’s expression changed.
Lucia emerged from the warehouse supported by Antonio.
Blood darkened one side of her shirt, but she was walking.
“Marco?”
She looked at Lily.
Then at us.
“No.”
She whispered.
“No, no, no.”
Lily began crying again.
“The old man said I had to give Dante something.”
She reached inside her pajama pocket.
A folded piece of paper.
Dante opened it.
ONE CHILD FOR THE LETTER.
THE OTHER FOR THE EVIDENCE.
Below that:
MIDNIGHT. MORETTI TERMINAL. COME ALONE.
Lucia stared.
“He kept my son because Lily belongs to you?”
Dante flinched.
“He’s using both of them.”
Lucia stepped toward her brother.
“He took my child.”
“I know.”
“He took my child because of you.”
“I know.”
The words hit harder because Dante didn’t defend himself.
Lucia’s anger collapsed into grief.
She covered her face.
I handed Lily to Antonio and went to her.
“He’s coming home.”
Lucia looked at me.
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
My throat tightened.
“But Bellandi made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“He gave Lily back.”
Lucia stared at me like I was insane.
Dante understood first.
“Why?”
I looked at him.
“Exactly.”
Bellandi had two children.
Two pieces of leverage.
He voluntarily released one.
Why?
Lily had been small enough to overhear things.
Small enough for adults to ignore.
I crouched in front of her.
“Sweetheart.”
She wiped her nose.
“Did the old man say anything before you left?”
She frowned.
“He was mad.”
“About what?”
“A lady.”
Dante went still.
“What lady?”
“I don’t know.”
“He was talking to someone?”
“No.”
Lily shook her head.
“He was yelling at the phone.”
“What did he say?”
She thought.
Children didn’t remember conversations the way adults did.
They remembered strange details.
Tone.
Images.
Words they weren’t supposed to hear.
“He said…”
Her forehead wrinkled.
“‘She was supposed to die with Elena.’”
Nobody moved.
Dante crouched.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he say a name?”
Lily shook her head.
Then stopped.
“Vee.”
“V?”
“No.”
She became frustrated.
“Vitto…Vitto…”
Vittorio.
Dante stood.
“Vittorio.”
My stomach dropped.
The old driver.
The man who led us to Bellavita.
Dante called him.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Alessandro arrived ten minutes later.
When Dante explained, his father went pale.
“Vittorio knew everything.”
“Yes.”
“More than Elena?”
“Possibly.”
Lucia looked toward them.
“Why would Bellandi think Vittorio died with Elena?”
Alessandro stared at the warehouse.
“Because I told him he did.”
We all turned.
“What?”
“After Elena died, I helped Vittorio disappear.”
His voice was low.
“Carlo believed he was in the car too.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Then someone told Bellandi he survived.”
“Yes.”
“And that someone may be the same person who knew where Bellavita was.”
“Yes.”
Lucia stepped forward.
“So find Vittorio.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“I think Carlo already has.”
Dante’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Bellandi.
“Did you enjoy my gift?”
Dante looked at Lily in my arms.
“She’s safe.”
“For now.”
“Where is Marco?”
“With me.”
A child cried faintly in the background.
Lucia made a broken sound.
Dante closed his eyes.
Bellandi continued.
“Your mother took everything from me.”
“You murdered her.”
“She destroyed my business.”
“You trafficked children.”
“I built an empire.”
“You built it on children.”
Dante’s voice became ice.
“And tonight it ends.”
Bellandi laughed.
“So righteous. Elena would be proud.”
A pause.
“Bring the evidence.”
“You’ll get it when Marco is safe.”
“And bring Vittorio.”
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“You don’t have him.”
Silence.
Very brief.
But enough.
Dante smiled.
The first real advantage we had gained.
“You don’t know where he is.”
Bellandi’s voice hardened.
“Midnight.”
The line ended.
Dante looked toward Alessandro.
“We find Vittorio first.”
“How?”
I asked.
Lily tugged my sleeve.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“The old man said another thing.”
We all looked at her.
“He said the dead man always goes back to church.”
Alessandro froze.
Dante turned slowly toward his father.
“What church?”
Alessandro’s face changed.
“Saint Cecilia.”
He grabbed his cane.
“Vittorio’s wife is buried there.”
Dante checked the time.
Eight hours until midnight.
He looked at Lucia.
“We’ll find Marco.”
She stared at him.
“You swear?”
Dante’s voice didn’t shake.
“On our mother.”
Then he turned to me.
“I need you to take Lily home.”
I opened my mouth.
He touched my face.
“Not because I’m deciding for you.”
That stopped me.
“Because she needs you.”
I looked down at my daughter.
She had both arms around my neck.
She was alive.
She was terrified.
And she needed her mother more than I needed to prove I could stand beside Dante every second.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
He looked surprised.
“Okay?”
“Don’t make me regret being reasonable.”
His forehead touched mine.
“Never.”
I kissed him.
Then whispered against his mouth:
“Bring Marco home.”
Dante looked toward Lucia.
Toward his father.
Toward the city that had taken too much from all of us.
“I will.”
And for the first time, I believed he wasn’t saying it because he thought promises could control fate.
May you like
He was saying it because he had finally learned something his mother tried to teach him.
He didn’t have to do it alone.
