Chapter 5 - The Husband Who Let Her Walk Away
Sophia watched the video three times.
Antonio refused to let her watch it a fourth.
“He has them because of me.”
“No.”
“He wants something he thinks I have.”
“He has them because Carlo chose to take them.”
“That's not going to make me feel better.”
“It isn't supposed to.”
Antonio assembled his men before sunrise.
For the first time, Sophia saw the machinery beneath his wealth.
Secure phones.
Weapons.
Maps.
Men who obeyed him without hesitation.
Yet Antonio rejected every suggestion involving Sophia.
“She doesn't go near Carlo.”
Sophia stood in the doorway.
“Then neither do you.”
Every man in the room went silent.
Antonio slowly turned.
“This is not a discussion.”
“Then you're talking to yourself.”
Marco looked fascinated.
Antonio dismissed everyone.
When the door closed, he approached Sophia.
“You think I'm letting you walk into a hostage exchange?”
“I think they're my family.”
“And you're mine.”
“Stop saying that like ownership gives you authority over me.”
His jaw tightened.
Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
“You're right.”
Sophia blinked.
Antonio opened a safe and removed a document.
He placed it before her.
“What is this?”
“An annulment agreement.”
Her stomach dropped.
“It releases you from every condition of our marriage. Your father's debt remains cleared. Your family's properties remain protected. Everything I transferred into your name stays yours.”
Sophia stared at him.
“You prepared this when?”
“Before we left New York.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew eventually I'd have to give you a choice I should have given you from the beginning.”
He handed her a pen.
“If you want out, sign it.”
Sophia looked at the paper.
Freedom.
Three weeks earlier she would have signed without reading.
Now her hand wouldn't move.
“What happens if I sign?”
“You leave this island under protection. I'll recover your father and sister.”
“And you?”
“I handle Carlo.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Antonio looked away.
Sophia understood.
“You think you might die.”
“I think that's always possible.”
“No.”
She pushed the agreement back.
“I'm not signing anything while you're planning your funeral.”
“Sophia—”
“We find my family together.”
His voice hardened.
“I won't gamble your life.”
“And I won't let you decide whether my life is worth gambling.”
They stared at each other.
Finally Antonio sighed.
“You are exhausting.”
“You married me.”
“That may be my first intelligent decision in years.”
Sophia's anger vanished for half a second.
“Don't distract me.”
“Was it working?”
“A little.”
They returned to the photograph.
Sophia remembered that her music box had been stored in the attic when they sold the house.
Antonio arranged a covert flight.
They reached New York the following night.
The old family home stood dark beneath rain.
Sophia entered with Antonio and Marco.
Renovation had stripped the downstairs to bare studs.
Upstairs, the attic remained largely untouched.
Sophia found three dusty boxes bearing her name.
Inside the second was the music box.
Her hands shook.
She opened it.
The ballerina no longer turned.
Antonio examined the base.
“May I?”
Sophia handed it over.
He discovered a false panel.
Inside was a brass key and a strip of paper.
A bank name.
A deposit-box number.
Marco whispered, “We found it.”
“No,” Sophia said.
Antonio looked at her.
“This is too easy.”
She remembered her father teaching her chess.
Never attack the piece your opponent offers until you understand why he offered it.
Sophia examined the music box again.
The mirror inside the lid was loose.
She removed it.
Behind it was another message.
If Antonio Russo is standing beside you, trust him. If Carlo is, run.
Antonio read it.
For once, he had nothing to say.
Sophia looked at him.
“My father trusted you.”
“He shouldn't have.”
“Maybe he knew you better than I did.”
A floorboard creaked downstairs.
Antonio instantly killed the flashlight.
Marco drew his weapon.
Footsteps.
Several.
They weren't alone.
Antonio pulled Sophia behind him.
The bedroom door opened.
A gun appeared.
Marco fired.
Chaos erupted.
Antonio grabbed Sophia and pushed her through the adjoining room.
“Fire escape!”
They reached the rear window.
Marco covered them.
Sophia climbed onto the wet iron stairs.
Antonio followed.
A bullet struck the brick beside his head.
They descended.
At the alley, an SUV screeched toward them.
Marco shouted from above.
“Antonio, move!”
Sophia saw the driver.
She froze.
The man behind the wheel was someone she recognized.
Someone who had eaten breakfast at Antonio's penthouse.
Someone Antonio trusted.
His consigliere, Daniel Vitale.
Daniel stopped the SUV.
“Get in!”
Antonio raised his weapon.
Daniel shouted:
“If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead! Carlo has Marco's entire security network!”
Antonio hesitated.
Sophia grabbed his sleeve.
Another volley of gunfire hit the alley.
They got in.
Daniel accelerated.
Sophia looked back.
Marco jumped from the fire escape into another vehicle.
Antonio pressed his gun against Daniel's neck.
“Give me one reason.”
Daniel kept driving.
“Because Carlo isn't the one running this.”
Antonio's eyes narrowed.
May you like
Daniel looked at Sophia through the mirror.
“Her father is.”
