Chapter 6 - THE GIRL RAFAEL KANE BURIED
Dario did not speak for nearly a minute.
Nobody interrupted him.
Vincent stood across the library.
Marco remained near the door.
I held Lucia against me beneath a blanket while one of the estate nurses checked the reopened cut on Dario’s head.
He waved her away.
“Explain.”
Vincent looked exhausted.
“Sofia found one of Rafael’s account books.”
“She was seventeen.”
“She was seventeen and smarter than most adults in this family.”
Dario stared at him.
“She showed it to you?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because she showed it to my mother.”
Vincent’s mother had been Rafael’s younger sister.
“She wanted Aunt Catherine to help her go to the police.”
“What happened?”
“My mother panicked.”
Vincent swallowed.
“She called Rafael.”
Dario’s face went empty.
“No.”
“She thought she was protecting Sofia.”
“No.”
“Rafael told her he would handle it.”
Dario whispered, “And then the car.”
“Yes.”
The room felt colder.
“Did your mother know?”
“Not until afterward.”
“What did she do?”
“Drank herself to death over the next ten years.”
Dario looked away.
I understood something then.
People assume powerful families possess fewer secrets because they have more control.
The opposite is often true.
Money gives secrets larger rooms to hide inside.
Vincent continued.
“I was nineteen. Rafael told everyone rivals planted the bomb.”
“That was the story.”
“I believed it.”
“When did you learn the truth?”
“Six years ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have killed him.”
Dario’s eyes returned to Vincent.
“Maybe.”
“And then every federal agency investigating this family would have buried you.”
Vincent’s voice rose.
“So I stayed near Rafael.”
“You helped him.”
“At first.”
“You spied on me.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me every day.”
“Yes.”
Dario laughed once.
Cold.
“Congratulations on your loyalty.”
Vincent absorbed it.
“I deserved that.”
“What changed?”
“Mateo.”
I looked up.
Vincent turned toward me.
“Your husband saw me at Harbor Nine because I was trying to figure out what he knew.”
“So Mateo was right not to trust you.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Rafael about him?”
Vincent hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Dario surged forward.
Marco blocked him again.
I stood.
“Answer me.”
Vincent’s voice dropped.
“Yes.”
Something inside me broke quietly.
“You told the man who murdered his own daughter that my husband was investigating him.”
“I didn’t know Rafael would kill him.”
I almost laughed.
“That defense seems popular in this family.”
Dario flinched.
Good.
Vincent lowered his eyes.
“I thought Rafael would scare him.”
“He burned my husband alive.”
“We don’t know whether Mateo was alive when—”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
He stopped.
Lucia looked between us.
“Mommy?”
I turned immediately.
“We’re done.”
I took her upstairs.
That night she slept in my bed.
Around three, I woke to find Dario sitting outside the bedroom door.
Not inside.
Outside.
On the floor.
His back against the wall.
“You’re supposed to rest.”
“So are you.”
“Why are you here?”
“Security.”
“You employ thirty men.”
“None of them are sitting here.”
I stared at him.
“You think somebody will come for Lucia.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re guarding the door yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked toward the bedroom.
“Because Mateo asked me to.”
“He asked you three years ago.”
“I’m late.”
That answer hurt.
I sat beside him.
For several minutes we listened to the house.
“You loved Sofia.”
Dario looked down.
“Yes.”
“You blamed yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Still do.”
“Yes.”
“You were twenty-three.”
“I told her to get in the car.”
“Your father put the bomb there.”
“I told her Dad knew what he was doing.”
“You didn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.”
He looked at me.
“So Mateo doesn’t matter because you didn’t know?”
That stopped me.
Of course he would use my own anger.
I hated that he was right.
“No,” I said quietly. “Mateo matters.”
“So does Sofia.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward Lucia’s door.
“I spent nineteen years thinking I failed my sister because I trusted my father.”
His voice became softer.
“Then your daughter sang the same song.”
I understood.
“That’s why you woke.”
“Maybe.”
“Doctors would probably disagree.”
“They can.”
I almost smiled.
Dario looked at me.
“You should leave.”
“What?”
“Take Lucia somewhere outside Illinois.”
“You just said we’re safer here.”
“You were.”
“Were?”
“The attack tonight changes things.”
“Your father knows where I am.”
“Yes.”
“Then where exactly do you think I can hide?”
He had no answer.
“Stop deciding what’s best for me.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
He studied me.
“You’re difficult.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Mateo must have been patient.”
“He was.”
For the first time, speaking about my husband with Dario did not feel like betrayal.
It felt like allowing two truths to exist in one room.
I had loved Mateo.
I always would.
And the man sitting beside me was becoming something I had not asked for.
Important.
The next morning, Detective Dana Cole arrived.
Chicago Police.
Organized Crime Division.
No dramatic entrance.
No attitude.
Just a woman in her forties carrying two coffees and the expression of somebody unimpressed by billionaires.
“I’ve been waiting eight years for one of you Kanes to decide murder was inconvenient.”
Dario almost smiled.
“I like her,” I said.
“You would.”
Dana reviewed Mateo’s files.
Then the memory card.
Then Vincent’s statement.
By noon, she had enough to obtain warrants connected to several shell companies.
Not Rafael himself.
Yet.
“We need something current,” she said.
“Old financial records establish history. Vincent establishes knowledge. But Rafael’s attorneys will destroy him on credibility.”
Vincent looked offended.
“You worked for Rafael,” Dana said. “Then switched sides. Then hid evidence. Then participated in conspiracy meetings.”
“Fair.”
“We need Rafael talking.”
Dario leaned forward.
“He’ll talk to me.”
“No.”
“He wants me.”
“Still no.”
“We arrange a meeting.”
Dana shook her head.
“Absolutely not.”
Marco said, “Actually…”
She glared at him.
“Do not encourage the man with recent brain trauma.”
Dario looked at me.
I knew that expression.
He had already decided.
“No.”
“Elena.”
“No.”
“He killed Mateo.”
“I know.”
“He killed Sofia.”
“I know.”
“He tried to kill you and Lucia.”
“I know.”
Dario stood.
“Then help me end it.”
The words landed differently.
Not save me.
Not trust me.
Help me.
I looked toward Lucia coloring at the far end of the room.
“What’s the plan?”
Dana groaned.
“I hate all of you.”
The plan was simple.
Which meant I distrusted it immediately.
Rafael believed Vincent still worked for him.
Vincent would tell Rafael Dario had recovered Mateo’s full evidence.
Dario would offer an exchange.
The files for Rafael leaving Elena and Lucia alone.
We did not expect him to accept.
We expected him to talk.
What we did not expect was Rafael’s response.
Vincent called.
Put the phone on speaker.
Rafael answered after one ring.
“Finally.”
Vincent looked at Dario.
“We have a problem.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
Rafael laughed.
Then another voice came through the phone.
Small.
Familiar.
Crying.
“Mommy?”
My entire body stopped.
Lucia was no longer at the table.
I spun.
Empty chair.
The crayons were still there.
I screamed.
“LUCIA!”
Rafael Kane’s voice returned.
“Children disappear quickly in large houses.”
Dario went white.
“How?”
Marco was already shouting into his radio.
Security teams moved.
Doors slammed.
Rafael continued.
“You want to trade, son?”
Dario took the phone.
“If you hurt her—”
“You’ll what?”
The voice on the phone sounded almost amused.
“Become exactly like me?”
Dario’s face changed.
Not rage.
Something colder.
“No.”
He looked at me.
Then said into the phone:
“I’ll give you everything.”
I stared at him.
Rafael laughed.
“I knew eventually I’d find something you valued more than power.”
Dario answered quietly.
“You did.”
Then Rafael gave us an address.
An abandoned freight terminal on the river.
One hour.
No police.
Bring Mateo’s original files.
The call ended.
Dana immediately began giving orders.
Dario turned toward me.
“You’re staying here.”
I stepped closer.
“Say that again.”
“Elena—”
“That is my child.”
“I know.”
“I am coming.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“So was giving birth to her. I did that too.”
For half a second, even Dana looked impressed.
Dario closed his eyes.
Then nodded.
“Stay beside me.”
“I don’t take orders.”
His gaze met mine.
“Then consider it a request.”
I nodded.
Thirty-eight minutes later, we reached the terminal.
Dario had the evidence.
Dana had teams hidden farther away.
Marco had tracking devices and enough anger to frighten concrete.
I had one thought.
Lucia.
Nothing else mattered.
We entered the warehouse.
Rafael Kane stood beneath a single row of lights.
Seventy years old.
Silver hair.
Dark overcoat.
Perfect posture.
My daughter sat beside him.
Her hands were not tied.
That somehow made it worse.
Rafael rested one hand on her shoulder.
Dario stopped.
“Let her go.”
Rafael smiled.
“You look like your mother when you’re angry.”
Dario placed the drive on the floor.
“There.”
Rafael glanced at it.
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Kick it over.”
Dario did.
I stared at him.
That drive could destroy Rafael.
Dario gave it away without hesitation.
Rafael picked it up.
Then looked at Lucia.
“You see?”
He smiled at his son.
“Everybody has a price.”
Dario’s voice was quiet.
“She isn’t a price.”
He stepped forward.
“She’s a person.”
Rafael laughed.
“That weakness is why you were never suited to run this family.”
“No.”
Dario looked at him.
“That’s why you never deserved one.”
Rafael’s smile vanished.
Then Lucia spoke.
“You’re mean.”
Every adult in the room froze.
Rafael looked down.
“What?”
Lucia glared at him through tears.
“You made Mr. Dario sad.”
Rafael almost laughed.
Lucia kicked him directly in the shin.
Hard.
He stumbled.
I ran.
Marco moved.
Dario moved.
Gunfire exploded somewhere behind us.
I grabbed Lucia and dropped behind a metal barrier.
Dario tackled Rafael before he could reach his weapon.
Marco and security overwhelmed the remaining men.
Then police flooded the terminal.
Thirty seconds.
Maybe less.
It felt like an hour.
When I looked up, Dario was kneeling beside Rafael.
His father lay restrained beneath officers.
Rafael smiled through blood on his lip.
“You won’t do it.”
Dario stared at him.
“Do what?”
“Kill me.”
Dario slowly stood.
“No.”
His father laughed.
“Weak.”
Dario looked toward Lucia in my arms.
Then at me.
“No.”
His voice became steady.
“Free.”
And Rafael Kane was taken away.
But before police placed him inside the cruiser, he looked at Dario and said:
“You still don’t know who ordered the hit in the garage.”
Dario froze.
May you like
Rafael smiled.
“That one wasn’t me.”
