Chapter 4 - THE SECRET PASSAGE BEHIND THE LITTLE GIRL'S BEDROOM
Bruno found the blood before Dante found the door.
It was 7:42 in the morning when the Cane Corso stopped outside Sophie's bedroom and began scratching at the wood paneling.
At first, Carmine thought the dog had caught the scent of a mouse.
Then Bruno lowered his head and growled.
Dante knelt beside him.
A dark stain marked the baseboard.
He touched it with a clean handkerchief.
Blood.
Not much.
Just enough to prove that whoever had been outside Sophie's room had been injured.
"Get the panel off," Dante ordered.
Carmine examined the woodwork.
"There aren't any visible hinges."
"Then break it."
Before Carmine could reach for a tool, Sophie spoke from behind them.
"You have to push the flower."
Dante turned.
She stood in the hallway with Elena, wearing yellow slippers and a sweater too big for her shoulders.
"What flower?"
Sophie pointed toward a carved wooden rose above the baseboard.
"The man showed me."
Elena caught her breath.
Dante gently pushed the center of the flower.
Something clicked.
A narrow section of the wall swung inward.
Cold air rushed into the hallway.
Behind it was a passage barely wide enough for a grown man to turn around.
The stone floor disappeared into darkness.
Carmine drew his pistol.
Dante raised a hand.
"Wait."
He looked at Sophie.
"When did the man show you this?"
"Yesterday. He told me it was a secret door."
"Did you go inside?"
She shook her head.
"He said little girls weren't supposed to go where the spiders lived."
Despite the danger, Dante almost smiled.
That sounded exactly like Matteo.
His younger brother had always made terrifying things sound like adventures.
"Did he tell you anything else?"
Sophie studied the open passage.
"He said he needed something from my star, but he didn't want to take it while I was sleeping."
Dante looked at the pillow in her arms.
A terrible realization began forming.
For five years, his brother had been missing.
For three years, Elena and Sophie had lived in this house.
And for at least several nights, someone had been moving behind their bedroom wall.
Perhaps Matteo had not come to frighten his daughter.
Perhaps he had been trying to retrieve something that could save her.
Dante kissed Sophie gently on the forehead.
"Go downstairs with your mother."
"Will Bruno come?"
"Not yet. I need his help."
Sophie looked at the dog.
"Be careful, Bruno."
The animal touched his enormous nose to her hand.
Then he followed Dante into the dark.
The passage smelled of dust, damp stone, and old wood.
Carmine carried a flashlight.
Bruno walked ahead.
Every few yards, the dog stopped and sniffed the floor.
"These tunnels connect the servants' quarters to the old greenhouse," Carmine said. "Your grandfather supposedly had them built when liquor was being moved through the estate during Prohibition."
"Matteo knew about them."
"Did you?"
"Not all of them."
Dante remembered being twelve years old, chasing his younger brother through the lower corridors.
Matteo had always known how to find doors nobody else noticed.
He called it his special talent.
Their father called it trouble.
Dante had spent much of his childhood keeping Matteo out of punishment.
Later, he had spent years punishing him himself.
The memory made his chest ache.
They reached a narrow chamber beneath the rear staircase.
Inside stood an old wooden chair.
An empty water bottle.
A bloodstained towel.
And a blanket folded over a wooden crate.
Someone had been hiding there.
Recently.
Bruno rushed toward the blanket and began whining.
Dante picked it up.
Beneath it lay a folded piece of paper.
He opened it.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
His brother's.
Dante, if you find this, I have run out of time.
I tried to come home five years ago. They told me you ordered my death.
I didn't believe them.
I need you to know that.
Dante gripped the paper.
His vision blurred.
Carmine remained silent.
Dante read on.
Everything began at Pier Nine. The original records are still there, inside Locker C-12. They cannot destroy them without destroying their own protection.
The first key is where our little star sleeps.
The second is with Mother.
Do not trust the man wearing the lion.
And whatever happens, don't sign the agreement tonight.
The final line had been written in such heavy strokes that the pen had nearly torn through the page.
They don't want your company, Dante. They want you to take the blame.
Dante read it twice.
Then he folded the letter carefully.
"My brother believed I wanted him dead."
Carmine's expression tightened.
"Someone wanted both of you to believe that."
Dante looked around the small chamber.
The blood.
The blanket.
The hidden passage.
Matteo had been close enough to hear his footsteps.
Close enough to see the home he had lost.
Close enough to reach his daughter.
And Dante had spent the previous evening signing financial papers upstairs without knowing his brother was struggling to survive beneath him.
"Find every exit from these tunnels," Dante said.
Carmine nodded.
"I'll put men at the greenhouse and carriage house."
"Men you choose personally."
"Understood."
Dante stopped him.
"And Carmine?"
"Yes?"
"If my uncle asks where I am, tell him I'm reviewing tonight's guest list."
Carmine's mouth tightened.
"That should make him nervous."
"Good."
By nine o'clock, Dante had canceled every private meeting on his schedule.
He called an attorney outside the Moretti organization.
He ordered independent copies of every financial record Vittorio had handled during the previous five years.
Then he called his mother.
The first call went unanswered.
So did the second.
On the third, a nurse answered.
"Rosewood Recovery Center. How may I help you?"
"This is Dante Moretti. I need to speak with Teresa Moretti."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Moretti. Your mother is resting."
"Wake her."
"I'm afraid she isn't available for visitors or calls today."
Dante stared at the phone.
"Why?"
"Doctor's orders."
"Which doctor?"
A pause.
"I'm not authorized to share that information."
"I'm her son."
"I understand, sir, but—"
"Who gave those orders?"
Another pause.
Then the nurse spoke more quietly.
"Her legal medical representative."
Dante's voice turned cold.
"Name."
"Mr. Vittorio Moretti."
He ended the call.
His mother had suffered a fall five weeks earlier.
Vittorio had insisted she recover at a private facility outside the city, claiming she needed peace and professional care.
Dante had visited twice.
Both times Teresa had seemed sleepy.
Both times Vittorio had remained in the room.
Dante had blamed her exhaustion on medication.
Now he wondered whether she had been trying to tell him something.
He called Carmine.
"Get a car ready."
"Where are we going?"
"To bring my mother home."
At 10:18, Vittorio Moretti entered the estate through the main doors.
He wore a charcoal suit, polished black shoes, and the gold lion ring Sophie had described.
Behind him walked two men carrying garment bags and folders.
Vittorio smiled broadly when he saw Dante descending the staircase.
"My boy!"
He opened his arms.
Dante allowed the embrace.
Only because he wanted to look at the ring.
Its polished gold surface showed a lion standing on its hind legs.
The same ring he had seen his uncle wear at every birthday, funeral, and family celebration.
"Busy morning?" Vittorio asked.
"More than usual."
"I heard there was a security issue last night."
"Who told you?"
Vittorio smiled.
"People talk."
Dante returned the smile.
"They certainly do."
Vittorio studied him.
"Everything all right?"
"Perfect."
"Good. Tonight is important. The foundation agreement needs your signature before the dinner."
"I'll review it."
"You've already reviewed it."
"I'll review it again."
For one brief moment, Vittorio's expression hardened.
Then he laughed.
"Your father used to say you were stubborn."
"He was right."
"Just remember, Dante, our family survives because we trust one another."
Dante looked directly at him.
"That's what I was taught."
Vittorio's gaze drifted toward the servants' wing.
"Where's that little girl?"
Dante's pulse changed.
"What little girl?"
"Elena's daughter. Sophie."
"Why?"
"Oh, I saw her in the garden yesterday. Sweet child. Always carrying that ridiculous star pillow."
Dante's hands remained relaxed at his sides.
"She's sleeping."
"At this hour?"
"Rough night."
Vittorio gave a sympathetic shake of his head.
"Children are so fragile."
Then he placed a hand on Dante's shoulder.
"That's why men like us must protect them."
Dante looked at the ring.
He imagined breaking every finger beneath it.
Instead, he smiled.
"Of course, Uncle."
Vittorio walked toward the dining room.
Dante watched him go.
Then he called Carmine.
"Move Sophie and Elena somewhere only you know."
"Boss?"
"Now."
At 11:03, Sophie sat in the back of Carmine's armored SUV, Bruno beside her.
Elena was fastening the girl's seat belt.
Dante approached carrying a small paper bag.
"What's that?" Sophie asked.
"Breakfast."
She peered inside.
A warm blueberry muffin.
"And something else."
He handed her a little toy dog from the estate gift shop.
It was black, with floppy ears and a red ribbon.
Sophie examined it seriously.
"It doesn't look like Bruno."
"No?"
"Bruno's much bigger."
"I'll file a complaint with the manufacturer."
She smiled.
Then her expression turned solemn.
"Mr. Dante?"
"Yes?"
"If you find my daddy, will you tell him I'm not mad?"
Dante's throat tightened.
"Why would he think you're mad?"
"Because he didn't come to my birthday."
Dante crouched beside the open door.
"Sweetheart, sometimes grown-ups want to be somewhere more than anything in the world, but something very bad stops them."
She looked at him.
"Like getting locked out?"
His heart hurt.
"Yes. Something like that."
She considered this.
Then she leaned forward and wrapped both arms around his neck.
It happened so quickly that Dante barely had time to respond.
But when he did, he held her carefully.
"Bring him home," she whispered.
Dante closed his eyes.
"I'll do everything I can."
As the SUV pulled away, Bruno watched him through the rear window.
The dog looked almost angry about being separated from him.
Dante understood.
He would have preferred to be beside Sophie, too.
But his mother was waiting.
And somewhere in the city, his brother was either hiding or being held captive.
He had no intention of losing another member of his family.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Dante?"
His mother's voice.
Weak.
Frightened.
"Mom?"
"Listen carefully. You cannot sign that agreement tonight."
"I know."
"No, you don't understand."
He heard movement behind her.
A door closing.
Then Teresa whispered words that sent him reaching for his gun.
"Vittorio has been keeping Matteo alive because your brother is the only person who can prove what happened at Pier Nine."
Dante gripped the phone.
"Where is he?"
"There's something else. The reason I hid Elena and Sophie from you—"
A man's voice sounded in the background.
"Mrs. Moretti? Who are you speaking to?"
Teresa gasped.
"Dante, don't let them take the little girl!"
A sharp crash followed.
Then a scream.
The connection went dead.
Dante immediately called Carmine.
"Carmine, change your route. Do not go to the safe house."
"Why?"
Dante heard another voice through the phone.
A child.
"Uncle Dante?"
It was Sophie.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"There's a black car following us."
Carmine swore.
May you like
Then Dante heard the unmistakable sound of tires screaming against pavement.
The line went silent.
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