Chapter 6 - The Father Behind the Locked DoorThe last time Alessia Romano had seen her father, he was carrying a paper bag filled with oranges.
She had been seventeen.
He had kissed her forehead before leaving for work.
“Save me one,” he'd said.
She had eaten every orange except one.
For eleven years, she kept the memory of that final orange like a punishment.
Now she was driving toward Wisconsin with the most feared man in Chicago, hoping her father was still alive.
Dante sat beside her in the back of the SUV.
Marco drove.
Two additional vehicles followed at a distance.
The red folder rested inside a black case.
Alessia stared through the window.
“Do you think he'll recognize me?”
Dante looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
She turned.
“Then why say it?”
“Because if he's survived eleven years, I doubt he's forgotten the reason.”
Alessia looked away.
Her eyes filled.
Dante didn't touch her.
He simply sat beside her.
Sometimes that was enough.
The old marina stood beside a narrow inlet.
Most of the docks had rotted.
A faded sign swung in the wind.
The building had been abandoned for years.
Dante stepped from the SUV.
Alessia followed.
Marco remained near the vehicles.
“Stay close,” Dante said.
“I am.”
“Closer.”
She moved beside him.
Inside the marina office, a single lamp illuminated a wooden desk.
A man sat behind it.
Late fifties.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
A scar across his left cheek.
Lorenzo Bellini.
Dante stopped.
“You look terrible,” he said.
Bellini smiled weakly.
“Good to see you too.”
“Where's Antonio?”
“Safe.”
“That's not an answer.”
Bellini gestured toward the case.
“Did you bring the folder?”
Dante placed it on the desk.
“Show me the man first.”
Bellini shook his head.
“You don't understand what you're dealing with.”
“Then educate me.”
Bellini looked at Alessia.
“You look like your mother.”
She stepped forward.
“Where is my father?”
Bellini's smile disappeared.
“I'm sorry about what happened to your family.”
Alessia stared at him.
“Then tell me.”
Bellini lowered his eyes.
“Your father discovered that Vittorio Moretti was using the foundation to launder money through construction contracts.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“Go on.”
“Bianca wanted to expose him.”
“So you killed her?”
Bellini looked genuinely horrified.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Bellini swallowed.
“That's the question I've spent eleven years trying not to answer.”
Dante leaned across the desk.
“You're running out of time.”
Bellini glanced toward the window.
“Vittorio was afraid Bianca would take everything. She had the original trust documents. Without her signature, he couldn't control the foundation.”
“What happened at the marina?”
“Bianca came to meet Antonio. He had copies of the financial records.”
“And?”
“Someone intercepted them.”
“Who?”
Bellini shook his head.
“I wasn't there.”
Dante slammed his palm onto the desk.
“Enough.”
Bellini flinched.
“I helped cover it up. I admit that. But I didn't kill her.”
Alessia stepped forward.
“You let my mother believe my father abandoned us.”
Bellini looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father was alive.”
Silence.
Bellini continued.
“He was injured that night. Someone arranged to hide him. I was told that if his family knew, they'd be killed.”
Alessia stared.
“Who arranged it?”
Bellini looked toward Dante.
“Your mother.”
Dante went still.
“My mother was dead.”
“Not yet.”
Bellini's voice trembled.
“She survived the attack at the marina. She was the one who got Antonio away.”
Dante felt the room tilt.
“Where did she go?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie.”
“I swear.”
Alessia gripped the desk.
“Where is my father now?”
Bellini pointed toward a door behind him.
“Through there.”
Dante moved first.
He opened the door.
Inside was a small room with a narrow bed.
A man sat beside the window.
Gray-haired.
Thin.
His right leg supported by a metal brace.
He turned slowly.
Alessia stopped breathing.
The man looked at her.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then his face crumpled.
“Little star?”
Alessia made a sound Dante would remember for the rest of his life.
“Daddy?”
Antonio Romano tried to stand.
His injured leg buckled.
Alessia crossed the room and caught him.
They collapsed together onto the bed.
He held her face in both hands.
“My girl.”
She sobbed.
“You were alive.”
“I know.”
“You were alive!”
Antonio closed his eyes.
“I'm so sorry.”
She struck his chest once.
Not hard.
Just enough to express eleven years of grief.
“Mom waited for you.”
Antonio began crying.
“I know.”
“She died thinking you left us.”
His expression broke.
“No.”
Alessia nodded through tears.
“She died last year.”
Antonio covered his face.
The sound he made was almost unbearable.
Dante turned away.
For once, he couldn't watch someone else's pain.
Twenty minutes later, Antonio sat at the marina desk with a blanket around his shoulders.
Alessia refused to release his hand.
Dante stood across from him.
“Why didn't you contact your family?”
Antonio looked exhausted.
“After the attack, Bianca told me someone had put a price on my head. She helped move me to a safe house. A doctor treated my injuries.”
“Then what?”
“She disappeared.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Disappeared where?”
Antonio shook his head.
“I never knew.”
“Who kept you hidden?”
“People she trusted.”
“Names.”
Antonio hesitated.
“Harold Wexler. At first.”
“He died seven years ago.”
Antonio nodded.
“After that, a woman contacted me once a month. She provided money and medicine. She said my family was being watched.”
Alessia squeezed his hand.
“Why didn't you try to leave?”
“I did.”
Antonio lifted his trouser leg.
Old surgical scars ran along his shin.
“I was attacked outside a bus station. They broke my leg again.”
Dante's expression darkened.
“Who?”
“I never saw their faces.”
Antonio looked at Alessia.
“After that, I believed staying away was the only way to keep you safe.”
Alessia shook her head.
“You should have trusted us.”
“I know.”
His voice broke.
“I know.”
Dante looked at Bellini.
“Who made the phone call?”
Bellini stared at the floor.
“I did.”
“Who told you to?”
Bellini said nothing.
Dante stepped closer.
“Lorenzo.”
Bellini finally looked up.
“Someone contacted me yesterday. They knew you'd found the safe. They ordered me to arrange this meeting.”
“Who?”
Bellini swallowed.
“I only heard a woman's voice.”
Dante felt a chill.
“What did she say?”
Bellini looked at Antonio.
“She said it was time for the children to learn what happened.”
Alessia frowned.
“Children?”
Bellini nodded.
“Both of you.”
Dante stared.
Then Antonio reached into his coat.
He removed a small silver locket.
Inside was a photograph.
Bianca Moretti.
Holding a newborn baby.
On the back were two handwritten names.
Dante.
And Alessia.
Dante looked at Antonio.
“What is this?”
Antonio's face turned pale.
May you like
He whispered:
“There's something your mother never told either of you.”
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