Chapter 7
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## THE RACE TO BRING SOPHIE HOME
Luca reached Sophie's bedroom in less than thirty seconds.
The window was open. Her bed was empty. A stuffed rabbit lay on the floor beside a broken hair clip.
Emily stood in the hallway, pale and shaking.
"I heard the door open," she said. "I thought Marco was checking the security sensors."
Luca gripped the doorframe.
"How long ago?"
"Three minutes. Maybe four."
He called every guard assigned to the second floor.
No one had seen Marco leave.
Then he noticed the small camera above Sophie's doorway had been turned toward the wall.
Marco had disabled the surveillance before taking her.
Luca's phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
A message appeared.
Come to the old ferry terminal. Alone. Bring the butterfly files. If you bring the police, your daughter dies.
Attached was a photograph of Sophie sitting in the back of a black SUV.
Luca stared at the image until the rage in his chest became almost unbearable.
Emily touched his arm.
"Mr. Moretti, I know where that terminal is."
He looked at her.
"How?"
"My father worked on the docks before he died. He used to take me there when I was little."
"Marco knows every road around that area."
"Then he'll expect you to use the main entrance."
Luca studied her for a moment.
"Can you get me inside through another route?"
She nodded.
"I'm not leaving Sophie with him."
Luca called Marco's deputy and ordered him to assemble a team outside the terminal. They would remain out of sight until Luca gave the signal.
Vanessa insisted on coming.
"Absolutely not," Luca said.
"Marco has been using me for years. I know how he thinks."
"You also helped hide Isabella's disappearance."
"And I'll testify to that. But if you want your daughter alive, you need to understand that Marco doesn't follow orders from the highest bidder. He follows whoever can threaten the people he loves."
Luca paused.
"Who does he love?"
Vanessa swallowed.
"His younger brother. A man who was imprisoned after your father framed him for a murder he didn't commit."
The pieces began falling into place.
Marco had been loyal to Anthony because Anthony controlled his brother's fate. When Anthony disappeared, Marco needed a new source of protection.
The person financing the operation had offered him exactly that.
At the terminal, rain battered the rusted roof.
Luca entered through a maintenance passage with Emily beside him. Vanessa remained outside with the deputy.
They found Sophie in an abandoned office, sitting on a chair with her hands free.
Marco stood behind her.
When Sophie saw her father, she started to cry.
"Daddy!"
Luca raised one hand.
"Easy, princess. I'm here."
Marco held up a gun.
"Don't come any closer."
Luca stopped.
"Let her go."
"I can't."
"She's six years old."
"I know exactly how old she is."
"Then look at her."
Marco's expression twitched.
Sophie reached toward him.
"Marco, please. I want my daddy."
For a moment, the gun lowered.
Then Marco's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, and his face hardened again.
"Give me the files," he demanded.
Luca took a small drive from his pocket.
"You'll get them when Sophie is safe."
"All of them."
"First, my daughter."
Marco shook his head.
"You don't understand. The man behind this operation has my brother. If I fail, he'll kill him."
"Then help me bring him down."
"You can't."
"Watch me."
Marco's eyes filled with tears he seemed ashamed to shed.
"I was supposed to protect your family."
"You were."
"I loved that little girl like she was my own."
"Then prove it."
A sharp crack echoed through the terminal.
The office window exploded.
Marco fell to the floor.
Luca rushed toward Sophie as Emily pulled the child behind a concrete pillar.
A second shot struck the wall.
From the catwalk above, a sniper aimed at Luca.
Marco, bleeding from the shoulder, grabbed Luca's ankle.
"Get Sophie out!"
Luca fired toward the catwalk.
The sniper disappeared behind a steel beam.
Marco pressed a hand against his wound.
"I never wanted this."
"Who hired you?"
Marco struggled to breathe.
He looked toward the shattered window.
"Someone you trusted before you trusted me."
"Who?"
Marco's lips moved.
"Your uncle."
Then his eyes closed.
Luca looked up.
At the far end of the terminal, a figure stood in the rain.
The man raised one hand in a familiar greeting.
Luca recognized him from childhood photographs.
His mother's brother.
Uncle Richard.
May you like
The man who had supposedly died overseas twenty years earlier.
And he was holding a photograph of Isabella.
