Chapter 5 - The Secret Carmela Took to Her Grave
The first time Dante Falcone held my daughter while she slept, I saw the man he might have become if nobody had murdered his wife.
The second time, I saw what he was willing to do to keep her alive.
It happened at 2:43 in the morning.
A window shattered downstairs.
An alarm screamed.
And Dante appeared in my doorway carrying a gun.
"Rosa. Get Sophia."
I was already moving.
Sophia woke crying.
"Mommy?"
"Shh, baby. We're going for a little ride."
Dante stepped into the hallway.
"Marco has the car ready."
"What happened?"
"Someone breached the rear entrance."
My hands shook as I pulled Sophia's sweater over her pajamas.
"How did they find us?"
"We'll deal with that later."
Another crash echoed below.
Sophia began sobbing.
Dante looked at her.
His expression changed instantly.
"Hey, little shadow."
She sniffled.
"Mister Grumpy?"
"Remember how you walk like me?"
She nodded.
"Good. Tonight you get to be brave like me, too."
She reached toward him.
Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms.
I followed him through a service corridor and down a narrow staircase.
Two guards waited near the garage.
Marco opened the SUV door.
"Move!"
Dante handed Sophia to me.
Then turned back.
"Where are you going?" I cried.
"Making sure nobody follows you."
"No."
The word escaped before I could stop it.
He looked at me.
I swallowed.
"Please."
For a moment, his face softened.
Then Marco spoke.
"Boss, we've got this. Get in."
Dante hesitated.
Finally, he climbed into the vehicle.
As we pulled away, two dark cars emerged from the alley behind us.
Marco spoke into his radio.
The SUV accelerated.
Sophia buried her face against my chest.
"Mommy, I'm scared."
I kissed her hair.
"Me too, sweetheart."
Dante turned toward her.
"Look at me, Sophia."
She lifted her tearful face.
"Can you count the lights on the ceiling?"
She looked up at the tiny interior lights.
"One. Two. Three."
"Good girl."
His voice stayed calm as the vehicle swerved around a corner.
"Now count your fingers."
By the time she reached ten, the cars behind us had disappeared.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at a private medical clinic owned by one of Dante's oldest friends.
The building had secure entrances, an underground garage, and a small residential suite on the upper floor.
Sophia fell asleep almost immediately.
I couldn't.
Dante stood near the window while Marco delivered the security report.
"Two intruders," Marco said. "One arrested by the police. The other escaped. Nobody inside the house was injured."
"How did they bypass the gate?"
"Someone provided the access code."
Dante's expression darkened.
"Who had it?"
"Six people."
"Find out which one compromised it."
Marco nodded and left.
I sat on the edge of the couch.
"How long can this go on?"
Dante turned.
"Until I find who's behind it."
"That's not an answer."
"I know."
I stared at him.
"You can't keep moving Sophia from one hiding place to another."
"Then I'll end the threat."
"How?"
He said nothing.
And suddenly I understood.
"You mean by killing someone."
His jaw tightened.
"Rosa—"
"No."
I stood.
"I don't want my daughter growing up believing that violence solves everything."
He looked away.
"You think I do?"
"I don't know what you believe."
He remained silent for a long moment.
Then he spoke.
"When Carmela died, I spent six months hunting the people I believed were responsible."
I waited.
"Some were guilty of other crimes. Some had nothing to do with her death. I let anger make decisions that should have required evidence."
His voice was quiet.
"I can't undo that."
I felt the weight of his confession.
"Then don't repeat it."
He looked at Sophia.
"That's what I'm trying to learn."
The honesty surprised me.
For the first time, I saw someone struggling to become better rather than merely pretending he already was.
I sat beside my sleeping daughter.
"Tell me about Carmela."
Dante hesitated.
Then took the chair opposite me.
"She was a teacher before we married."
I blinked.
"A teacher?"
"Second grade. She loved children. She wanted to open a school for kids whose families couldn't afford private tutoring or after-school care."
A sad smile crossed his face.
"She hated how much money I spent on cars."
I almost smiled.
"Sounds like a sensible woman."
"She was."
He looked at his hands.
"We were trying to have a baby."
My chest tightened.
"Before she died?"
He nodded.
"She'd had two miscarriages. The doctors told us there was still hope."
He swallowed.
"She bought a tiny pair of yellow socks. Kept them in her sitting room."
I remembered the dried yellow roses.
The music box.
The locked door.
All the objects he'd preserved because they were the only pieces of a future that never happened.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He looked toward Sophia.
"Carmela would have loved her."
My eyes burned.
"She would have."
A quiet knock interrupted us.
Marco returned carrying a sealed envelope.
"Boss, our accountant finished tracing the transfers."
Dante opened it.
His face changed.
"What?"
Marco glanced at me.
"The shell companies Carmela was investigating were used to move money out of Falcone-controlled accounts. Some payments went to the warehouse where Gabriel supposedly died."
"And the rest?"
Marco swallowed.
"To a private trust."
Dante frowned.
"Whose trust?"
Marco handed him the document.
Dante read the name.
Then looked at me.
"Rosa Bennett."
I stared.
"What?"
"Your name is on the trust."
"That's impossible."
Marco placed another document on the table.
"The trust was established nineteen months ago. One month before Carmela died."
My heartbeat thundered.
"I've never heard of it."
Dante studied the paperwork.
"There's a designated beneficiary."
"Who?"
He looked toward the couch.
My sleeping daughter.
"Sophia."
I stood so quickly the chair fell backward.
"No."
Marco continued.
"The trust contains just over three million dollars."
I shook my head.
"There has to be a mistake."
Dante looked at the final page.
Then went completely still.
"What?" I demanded.
He slowly turned the document toward me.
At the bottom was a handwritten instruction.
For Sophia Bennett, when the truth about her father becomes known.
I couldn't breathe.
May you like
Because the signature beneath those words belonged to Carmela Falcone.
And Carmela had died before my daughter turned two.
