Chapter 5 - THE MAN ADRIAN CALLED UNCLEAdrian carried Sofia out through the rear entrance.
She could walk.
She simply couldn’t make her legs obey.
The smell of smoke had ripped her backward twenty-three years.
She was six again.
Bare feet on red carpet.
Her mother screaming.
A man blocking the hallway.
Fire eating the walls.
Adrian held her against his chest as Marco opened the rear gate.
“Car!”
A black SUV came around the alley.
Adrian pushed Sofia inside.
Marco climbed into the passenger seat.
They were three blocks away when an explosion shook the night.
Sofia stared through the rear window.
The townhouse windows erupted outward.
Her mother’s video was still inside.
“No!”
She lunged for the door.
Adrian grabbed her.
“The tape!”
“We copied it.”
“The ring!”
“With Marco.”
“My mother—”
“Sofia.”
She hit his chest.
Once.
Twice.
“Stop!”
“She’s gone!”
The words tore from Sofia.
“She’s already gone!”
Adrian let her hit him.
He understood.
The fire hadn’t destroyed Elena.
But trauma didn’t care about chronology.
Eventually Sofia folded against him and cried until exhaustion took her.
Adrian’s grief turned into something colder.
By sunrise, he had surveillance footage.
Two masked men had entered through the basement.
Professional.
They knew camera positions.
They knew security rotation.
That meant somebody had internal information.
Only eleven people knew Sofia was staying there.
Adrian trusted nine of them.
The tenth was his attorney.
The eleventh was Anthony Moretti.
Adrian called Anthony at 8:10 a.m.
The old man answered on the second ring.
“Adrian.”
“Dinner tonight.”
A pause.
“I thought Sunday.”
“Plans changed.”
“You sound upset.”
“My townhouse burned.”
Silence.
Then Anthony said, “Was anyone hurt?”
Adrian listened carefully.
Not Which townhouse?
Not What happened?
Anthony knew exactly which house.
“No.”
“Thank God.”
“Come at seven.”
“Of course.”
Anthony arrived at Adrian’s penthouse wearing a navy suit and carrying a bottle of Barolo.
The performance was beautiful.
Concerned eyes.
A hand on Adrian’s shoulder.
Questions about the fire.
Relief that Sofia survived.
Adrian had told Anthony that the homeless woman was indeed his sister before inviting him over.
Anthony had gone quiet for exactly four seconds.
Then he cried.
Real tears.
Or excellent ones.
“Sofia.”
Anthony approached her.
“My God.”
She stood behind the dining table.
“You remember me?” he asked.
Sofia stared at the scar running from his mouth to his jaw.
“Yes.”
Anthony’s smile faltered.
“Do you?”
“You were in the house.”
Adrian watched him.
Anthony recovered quickly.
“Of course I was. I practically lived there.”
“The night of the fire.”
This time the pause lasted longer.
“No,” Anthony said.
“I wasn’t.”
Sofia’s hands tightened.
“I remember you.”
“You were six years old and traumatized.”
“You smelled like cigars.”
Anthony laughed softly.
“Half the men around your father smelled like cigars.”
“You had blood on your cuff.”
The room changed.
Anthony looked at Adrian.
“Is this why you invited me?”
Adrian poured wine.
“I invited you because I need help.”
“With what?”
“Finding who burned my townhouse.”
Anthony sat.
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
“I know.”
Adrian placed a jewelry box on the table.
Anthony’s gaze flicked toward it.
Only once.
But Adrian saw.
“My mother left Sofia something.”
Adrian opened the box.
The replica ring sat inside.
Anthony leaned forward.
“Her wedding ring.”
“You recognize it?”
“Of course.”
Anthony’s face softened.
“Elena wore it every day.”
Adrian closed the box.
“Apparently she hid something inside.”
Anthony’s fingers stopped moving.
“What?”
Adrian smiled.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
He pushed the box across the table.
“We couldn’t open it.”
Anthony didn’t touch it.
“You think I can?”
“You knew my father better than anyone.”
Anthony looked from Adrian to Sofia.
Then back.
“You should destroy it.”
Adrian leaned back.
“Why?”
“If your mother hid something inside, there was probably a reason she kept it hidden.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s advice.”
Sofia spoke.
“My mother said people died because of it.”
Anthony looked at her.
For the first time, the warmth vanished from his face.
Only for a second.
Then it returned.
“Elena lived through terrible things.”
“You mean the fire you started?”
Marco moved slightly.
Anthony didn’t.
“Be careful, Sofia.”
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“Careful?”
Anthony looked at him.
“I mean with memories. Trauma reshapes them.”
Adrian said nothing.
Dinner continued.
Three hours later, Anthony left.
The replica ring remained on the table.
Sofia frowned.
“He didn’t take it.”
“No.”
“So your plan failed.”
Adrian looked toward Marco.
“Did it?”
Marco opened his laptop.
A camera feed showed Anthony entering the private elevator.
Then leaving the building.
Another camera showed his driver opening the car door.
Anthony climbed inside.
The car moved.
Adrian switched feeds.
Inside Anthony’s vehicle, a listening device transmitted audio.
Anthony’s first words were:
“They found the ring.”
A second voice answered.
“Did they open it?”
“Adrian says no.”
“You believe him?”
“No.”
Anthony took a breath.
“The girl remembers me.”
“What do you want done?”
Sofia turned toward Adrian.
Anthony’s answer came through the speakers.
“What Vincent should have done twenty-three years ago.”
Adrian’s eyes went dead.
“Kill them both.”
Sofia stopped breathing.
Anthony continued.
“And find Daniel Mercer before Adrian does.”
The second voice asked, “You’re sure Mercer is alive?”
“He contacted me last month.”
Adrian stood.
There.
Confirmation.
Daniel was alive.
Marco began tracing the vehicle and associated calls.
Sofia stared at the speaker.
“He wants you dead too.”
“He has to.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard the tape.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Because now you know your father wasn’t the man you thought.”
Adrian looked away.
Sofia continued.
“That makes you dangerous to Anthony in a way evidence doesn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“You spent your whole life loyal to a ghost.”
Her voice softened.
“Now you aren’t.”
Thirty minutes later, Marco had a lead.
The man speaking to Anthony was Leonard Pike, a retired private security contractor.
Pike owned a warehouse company in New Jersey.
One warehouse had received unusually high power usage despite officially sitting vacant.
Adrian wanted to go immediately.
Sofia refused to stay behind.
“No.”
“You nearly died yesterday.”
“So did you.”
“That’s different.”
“Because you’re a man?”
“Because I know what I’m walking into.”
“So do I.”
“No, you don’t.”
She stepped closer.
“Adrian, for twenty-three years everybody else decided what I was allowed to know.”
He stared at her.
“My mother hid things to protect me. Daniel disappeared to protect me. Rose lied to protect me.”
Her eyes filled.
“Then I spent thirteen years running because I never understood what I was running from.”
She picked up her coat.
“I’m done being protected through ignorance.”
Adrian hated the argument because it sounded exactly like something Elena would have said.
“Fine.”
Marco stared.
“Boss.”
“She stays in the car.”
Sofia folded her arms.
“We’ll negotiate that later.”
They arrived at the New Jersey warehouse at 1:15 a.m.
No lights.
No guards visible.
Marco’s team entered first.
Adrian followed.
Sofia remained outside with two security men.
For seven minutes, nothing happened.
Then gunfire erupted inside.
Sofia ducked.
One security guard drew his weapon.
The other suddenly struck him from behind.
Sofia froze.
The traitor grabbed her.
She drove her heel into his knee.
He cursed.
She ran.
A van door opened beside her.
Hands pulled her inside.
Sofia screamed.
The door slammed.
The van accelerated.
Inside the warehouse, Adrian heard Marco shout through the radio.
“They took her!”
Adrian ran outside.
Too late.
Red taillights disappeared down the industrial road.
His phone rang.
Anthony Moretti.
Adrian answered.
“If you touch her—”
“Listen carefully,” Anthony said.
“You bring me Elena’s ring and every copy of that microfilm.”
Adrian’s fist tightened.
“In exchange?”
“Sofia lives.”
“Where?”
Anthony laughed.
“You really are Vincent’s son. Straight to business.”
Adrian’s voice became frighteningly calm.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m Elena’s son.”
Silence.
Adrian continued.
“And that should scare you more.”
Anthony ended the call.
Marco approached.
“We lost the van.”
Adrian turned toward him.
“Find it.”
“We’re trying.”
“Don’t try.”
His eyes were ice.
“Find my sister.”
Then a weak voice called from inside the warehouse.
“Adrian?”
Everyone turned.
An elderly man emerged from behind a steel partition with his hands raised.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
Tired eyes.
Adrian had seen that face in old photographs.
Daniel Mercer.
His supposedly dead uncle.
Daniel looked toward the road where Sofia had vanished.
His expression filled with horror.
“Not again.”
Adrian crossed the distance and seized his jacket.
“You have ten seconds to tell me where Anthony took her.”
Daniel looked directly at him.
“I don’t know.”
Adrian slammed him against the wall.
“Wrong answer.”
“But I know why he needs her alive.”
Adrian stopped.
Daniel swallowed.
“The ledger your mother mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
Daniel’s eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t hide it in a bank.”
Adrian tightened his grip.
“Where is it?”
May you like
Daniel whispered:
“Inside Sofia.”
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