Chapter 4 - The Maid Who Became a Target
Sophie packed before midnight.
Not because she knew where she was going.
Because staying had become impossible.
Her suitcase lay open across the narrow bed in her staff apartment while she shoved clothes inside without folding them.
Her father’s message repeated in her head.
TRUST NO ROMANO MAN.
Dante was a Romano man.
That should have made everything simple.
It didn’t.
A knock sounded.
Sophie froze.
“Who?”
“Dante.”
“Of course.”
She opened the door but left the chain attached.
Dante looked at it.
“Comforting?”
“Emotionally.”
“You can’t leave.”
“That sounded dangerously close to an order.”
“It is.”
“Then I’m definitely leaving.”
“Sophie, Bellini is dead.”
“And apparently being near your family is terrible for longevity.”
His jaw flexed.
She immediately regretted the cruelty.
Not enough to apologize.
“Someone knows who you are now,” Dante said. “Someone knows about the card.”
“Which is why I should disappear.”
“You think whoever killed your father waited seven years because they couldn’t find you?”
That stopped her.
Dante lowered his voice.
“They left the bottle in my study after you started working here.”
Sophie stared.
“They already found you.”
Her hand slipped from the door.
Dante continued.
“If you walk outside without protection, you make their job easier.”
“I’m supposed to trust you because you say I can’t trust anyone?”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
“Then what?”
“Trust evidence.”
He held up the memory card.
“I haven’t opened it.”
“You could have copied it.”
“I could have.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
“No. It’s honest.”
He handed it to her through the gap.
Sophie stared at the tiny object.
“You’re giving it to me?”
“It belongs to you.”
“What if it contains something that destroys your family?”
“Then my family deserves whatever follows.”
The words changed something.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But possibility.
Sophie closed the door, removed the chain and opened it again.
“Come in.”
Dante entered.
Her apartment looked absurdly small around him.
He noticed the suitcase.
“You really were leaving.”
“I’m impulsive.”
“I noticed around the third unauthorized sip.”
Despite everything, she almost smiled.
They used Sophie’s old laptop because Dante refused to insert the card into any networked Romano computer.
The card contained eleven files.
Invoices.
Shipping records.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
And one video.
Sophie’s hand shook as she clicked it.
Her father appeared.
Seven years younger.
Alive.
Sophie stopped breathing.
Thomas Bennett sat in his winery office.
“If Sophie ever sees this, then I failed.”
She covered her mouth.
Dante remained silent beside her.
Thomas explained that Bennett Ridge had unknowingly become part of a laundering operation involving counterfeit wine, shell distributors and criminal money.
He had discovered the fraud when inventory numbers stopped matching actual barrels.
Then he named the man who approached him.
“Victor Romano.”
Dante went still.
“My uncle.”
Thomas continued.
Victor had offered money for silence.
Thomas refused.
But there was another name.
Someone younger.
Someone Thomas had trusted because he claimed he wanted to stop Victor.
“Luca Romano.”
Sophie looked at Dante.
His expression became stone.
Thomas said Luca had secretly provided information about Victor’s operation.
Then, near the end, Thomas leaned toward the camera.
“I don’t know whether Luca is helping me or helping himself.”
The recording ended.
Silence filled the room.
Sophie whispered, “Your cousin knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“He lied.”
“Yes.”
Dante reached for his phone.
Sophie grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
Dante looked down.
“Thomas didn’t say Luca killed him.”
“He concealed knowing him.”
“That makes him suspicious. Not guilty.”
Dante studied her.
“You’re defending him?”
“I’m defending the difference between evidence and anger.”
Something softened in his face.
“My father taught me that too.”
The lights went out.
Total darkness.
Dante moved instantly.
“Sophie, down.”
Glass shattered.
He pulled her to the floor as something punched through the window.
A gunshot.
Sophie’s scream died against his chest.
Dante covered her body with his.
Another shot struck the wall.
Then shouting erupted outside.
Security returned fire.
Dante dragged Sophie behind the bed.
“Stay here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Sophie.”
“You get shot, I’m alone with people trying to murder me.”
“That is the strangest argument for following me I’ve ever heard.”
“Still valid.”
His mouth tightened.
Another window shattered.
Then silence.
Dante’s security chief called from the hallway.
“Clear!”
Dante opened the door.
A black SUV had been found abandoned beyond the perimeter.
The shooter was gone.
Sophie stood among broken glass.
Her suitcase had a bullet hole through it.
She stared at the torn fabric.
“That was my good suitcase.”
Dante looked at her.
She began laughing.
Not because anything was funny.
Because if she didn’t laugh, she would cry.
“My father is murdered, your cousin may be involved, somebody shoots my suitcase, and I still owe eighty-three dollars on that thing.”
Dante crossed the room.
“Sophie.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
She stopped.
His hands remained there for only a second.
Warm.
Steady.
No pressure.
Sophie looked up.
For once, Dante Romano did not look dangerous.
He looked worried.
About her.
That realization was considerably more dangerous.
“You can’t stay in this room,” he said.
“Where am I supposed to stay?”
“The west wing.”
“Near you?”
“Next door.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes.
“That sounds suspiciously convenient.”
“It has reinforced windows.”
“That sounds suspiciously less romantic.”
Dante’s mouth twitched.
Then his security chief entered holding a phone.
“We found something in the SUV.”
He showed Dante a photograph.
Sophie leaned closer.
It was an image taken earlier that week.
Sophie leaving a grocery store.
A red circle had been drawn around her face.
Below it:
BENNETT GIRL CONFIRMED.
Dante’s amusement vanished.
There was a second photograph.
This one showed Dante standing outside a restaurant.
Another circle.
Another message.
THEY’RE TOGETHER.
Sophie’s stomach dropped.
“Who sent these?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Dante stared at the images.
Then at Sophie.
The attack had not been designed only to kill her.
It had been designed to send him a message.
She was now his weakness.
May you like
And in Dante Romano’s world, weaknesses were not ignored.
They were hunted.
