Chapter 7 - THE GRANDMOTHER WHO REFUSED TO DIE
Sophia could not speak.
“My grandmother died.”
Victor stood beside Dominic’s bed.
“You were told she died.”
“I saw the obituary.”
“Fabricated.”
“The funeral?”
“Closed casket.”
Sophia stared at him.
Memory moved across her face.
“Theodore arranged everything.”
Victor nodded.
Sophia sat down.
“Oh my God.”
Dominic reached for her hand.
“Why would your father fake her death?”
“She helped me escape.”
“Maybe he thought killing her openly would raise questions,” Victor said.
“Where is she?”
“That’s what Anthony claims Evan knows.”
Dominic tried to stand.
Sophia pushed him back.
“You are not going anywhere.”
“I have a bullet hole, not a broken spine.”
“You lost enough blood to make your doctor swear in Italian.”
“He always swears.”
Sophia planted both hands on her hips.
Victor looked fascinated.
Nobody ordered Dominic Moretti back into bed.
Certainly not twice.
Dominic glared.
Sophia glared harder.
He lay back.
Victor looked away to hide a smile.
Two days later, Dominic could walk without dizziness.
By then, Victor had located a trail.
Sophia’s grandmother, Margaret Mercer, had lived under the name Margaret Lane in Vermont for nearly six years.
Until three weeks earlier.
Then she vanished.
“Evan found her,” Sophia said.
Victor nodded.
“He appears to have moved her to a property in Connecticut.”
“Property owned by my father?”
“Shell company connected to him.”
Dominic studied the photographs.
A rural estate.
Tree line.
Old farmhouse.
Separate barn.
Sophia stood beside him.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“She’s my grandmother.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to decide.”
“I do when people are shooting at you.”
Sophia folded her arms.
“You were shot three days ago.”
“That is different.”
“How?”
“I’m difficult to kill.”
“So am I.”
Dominic stared.
She stared back.
Victor slowly backed toward the door.
Dominic noticed.
“Don’t.”
“I suddenly remembered a phone call.”
“You don’t have a phone in your hand.”
“I’ll find one.”
He left.
Sophia almost smiled.
Dominic said, “This is not funny.”
“No.”
“You stay here.”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“Dominic.”
He stepped closer.
“You think I’m trying to control you.”
“You are.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I spent six years letting fear decide where I lived, what name I used, where Lily could play, whether I could make friends.”
Her voice shook.
“I’m done letting dangerous men decide my life.”
The words hit him.
Because Dominic knew exactly what she meant.
He had allowed a dead father’s rules to dictate every emotional decision he made.
“Fine,” he said.
Sophia blinked.
“Fine?”
“You come.”
She looked suspicious.
“With conditions.”
“There it is.”
“You stay beside me.”
“Fine.”
“You follow instructions if shooting starts.”
“Fine.”
“You wear body armor.”
“Fine.”
“And you do not run toward danger.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow.
“That seems rich coming from you.”
That night they drove to Connecticut.
Victor’s team surrounded the property.
Dominic entered first.
The farmhouse was empty.
In the barn, they found blood.
Sophia froze.
“Grandma.”
Dominic caught her arm.
“Wait.”
A sound came from beneath the floor.
Victor located a trapdoor.
They opened it.
A terrified elderly woman looked up from a narrow cellar.
Sophia gasped.
“Grandma?”
Margaret Mercer began crying.
“Sophie?”
Sophia dropped to her knees.
Dominic helped lift Margaret out.
The reunion lasted only seconds before headlights appeared beyond the trees.
Victor shouted, “Vehicles!”
Dominic grabbed Sophia.
“Inside.”
“No.”
“Now.”
Gunfire cracked through the night.
Moretti security returned fire.
Margaret cried out.
Sophia covered her grandmother.
Dominic moved toward the barn entrance.
Evan appeared outside holding a weapon.
“Sophie!”
She froze.
Dominic raised his gun.
Evan pulled Margaret toward him before anyone could react and pressed the weapon against her throat.
“Drop it.”
Dominic’s hand remained steady.
“Evan,” Sophia whispered.
Evan smiled.
“Still causing trouble.”
“You told me she was dead.”
“Your father thought it was easier.”
“Why keep her alive?”
“She knew where everything was.”
Margaret’s face hardened despite the weapon.
“And I never told you.”
Evan tightened his grip.
Dominic said, “Let her go.”
Evan looked at him.
“You know what your problem is?”
“I suspect you’re going to tell me.”
“You care now.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“That makes you weak.”
Sophia looked at Dominic.
The words were exactly what Salvatore Moretti would have said.
Evan smiled.
“Before them, nobody could touch you. Now look at you.”
His gun shifted toward Sophia.
Dominic moved instantly.
The shot fired.
Sophia screamed.
Evan collapsed.
Victor stood behind him, weapon raised.
Margaret fell free.
Dominic reached Sophia.
“You hit?”
“No.”
He searched her arms, shoulders, face.
“Dominic, I’m fine.”
He pulled her against him.
Not caring who watched.
Sophia wrapped both arms around him.
He buried his face against her hair.
“You’re fine.”
“Yes.”
“You’re fine.”
She realized he was reassuring himself.
“I’m here.”
Dominic held her tighter.
Margaret watched them.
A knowing sadness crossed the older woman’s face.
Later, inside the armored SUV, Margaret explained everything.
“Theodore and Salvatore worked together years ago,” she said. “Your mother discovered it, Dominic.”
He became still.
“Elena came to me because she knew Theodore trusted me.”
“You knew my mother?”
“I tried to help her escape.”
Dominic looked out the window.
Margaret touched his hand.
“I failed her.”
“You were not responsible.”
“Neither were you.”
That sentence pierced somewhere deep.
Margaret continued.
“Your mother recorded everything before she died. She gave me a copy.”
Dominic turned.
“Where?”
Margaret smiled faintly.
“In the one place Theodore would never search.”
Sophia frowned.
“Where?”
Margaret looked at her granddaughter.
“Your childhood home.”
Sophia stared.
“My father still lives there.”
“Yes.”
“And the recording is inside?”
Margaret nodded.
“Behind the wall of the room where Sophie used to hide whenever Theodore was angry.”
Dominic understood.
This was no longer only about destroying Theodore Mercer.
It was about uncovering the truth of his mother’s death.
He looked at Sophia.
May you like
She took his hand.
Neither let go.
