Chapter 6 - SOPHIA’S PRICE
Sophia lunged for Lorenzo’s phone.
“Give it to me.”
“Sophia—”
“That is my mother.”
Lorenzo handed it over.
Matteo smiled when her face appeared.
“Mrs. Rossi.”
“If you touch them—”
“I haven’t.”
“You tied them to chairs.”
“An unfortunate family tradition tonight.”
Sophia’s hand shook.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing Lorenzo wants.”
“What?”
“To keep what belongs to me.”
“Those are people.”
“I meant the files.”
Lorenzo took the phone back.
“You don’t negotiate with her.”
Matteo’s smile widened.
“You always did have a weakness for employees.”
“Let them go.”
“Bring the audit.”
“Where?”
“Duca Import warehouse fourteen.”
Marco shook his head violently.
Trap.
Matteo continued.
“Five a.m.”
Lorenzo looked at the dashboard clock.
3:38.
“You have eighty-two minutes.”
The call ended.
Sophia stared at Lorenzo.
“We’re going.”
“No.”
“You’re not deciding this for me.”
“I am deciding whether you walk into an execution.”
“My mother is there.”
“I know.”
“My brother is seventeen.”
“I know.”
“Then stop saying no.”
Lorenzo’s voice softened.
“I will get them out.”
“How?”
“We give Matteo what he believes he wants.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“The audit files.”
“You have them?” Marco asked.
“No.”
Everyone stared at Lorenzo.
He looked almost amused.
“Matteo thinks I copied them.”
“Didn’t you?”
“I memorized the important parts.”
Marco closed his eyes.
“Of course you did.”
The port audit involved millions disappearing through shipping companies Lorenzo had been closing.
Matteo and several older partners had apparently redirected those profits into narcotics distribution Lorenzo explicitly prohibited.
The missing money mattered.
The names mattered more.
If federal investigators got them, half Matteo’s support network would disappear.
Ricci sat quietly against the van wall.
Sophia looked at him.
“You know the warehouse.”
“Yes.”
“Entrances?”
“Three.”
“Security?”
“Usually eight men.”
“Tonight?”
“More.”
Lorenzo studied him.
“Why are you helping?”
Ricci looked tired.
“Because my daughter is still alive somewhere because Matteo finds me useful.”
“And?”
“And perhaps I am tired of being useful.”
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“Touching.”
Ricci ignored him.
“There is a drainage access beneath warehouse fourteen.”
Marco looked over.
“Where?”
“South wall. Storm grate.”
Sophia suddenly remembered something.
“My brother.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Nico worked summer maintenance at the warehouses.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“He’ll know the drainage layout.”
“If he’s inside, he may know where Matteo placed them.”
Lorenzo started planning immediately.
It was frightening how quickly he transformed pain into strategy.
Marco would approach from the drainage access.
Vincent would send a false digital copy of the audit to Matteo’s server, forcing his technical team upstairs.
Lorenzo would enter the main warehouse alone.
Sophia rejected that.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“Stop that.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“You have Emma.”
The words hit differently.
Sophia looked down.
Her daughter was asleep against her chest.
Pink hair clip gone.
One sock still folded beneath her heel.
This tiny person had already wandered into one nightmare tonight.
Sophia could not deliberately carry her into another.
Lorenzo understood before she spoke.
“Stay with Emma.”
Tears burned Sophia’s eyes.
“And if my family dies?”
“They won’t.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“No.”
He looked directly at her.
“But I can promise I will value their lives as much as my own.”
That silenced her.
Nobody with Lorenzo Duca’s reputation was supposed to speak that way.
She touched his sleeve.
“Bring them back.”
“I will.”
They reached a safe apartment owned under one of Vincent’s legitimate companies.
An elderly woman named Mrs. Bellini opened the door wearing a bathrobe and holding a baseball bat.
“Who is this?” Sophia asked.
Lorenzo almost smiled.
“My kindergarten teacher.”
Mrs. Bellini pointed the bat at him.
“You look terrible.”
“Popular opinion tonight.”
She took Emma without asking questions.
Then glared at Ricci.
“You.”
Ricci blinked.
“You remember me?”
“You cheated on a spelling test in 1974.”
Vincent laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall.
For one absurd minute, fear loosened its grip.
Then everyone left except Sophia, Emma, and Mrs. Bellini.
Sophia stood at the window watching the catering van disappear.
At 4:51, her phone rang.
Nico’s number.
She answered.
“Nico?”
Static.
Then whispering.
“Soph?”
Her knees weakened.
“Nico. Are you okay?”
“Don’t let Lorenzo come.”
“Why?”
“Matteo moved Mama.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said the warehouse was bait.”
Sophia gripped the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Still here. I got one hand loose.”
“Nico, listen to me—”
A door opened on his end.
He stopped breathing.
A man’s voice came faintly through the phone.
“Who are you calling?”
Nico dropped the device.
Footsteps.
A struggle.
Then Matteo’s voice came directly into the phone.
“Sophia.”
She couldn’t speak.
“I told Lorenzo five a.m.”
“He’s coming.”
“I know.”
Matteo sounded pleased.
“That’s why he’ll die there.”
The call ended.
Sophia grabbed her coat.
Mrs. Bellini blocked the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To stop him.”
“You have a child.”
“I know.”
Emma woke from the sofa.
“Mama?”
Sophia froze.
Her entire life stood between one sleeping child and a mother and brother held somewhere in the dark.
Then Emma climbed down.
She walked toward Sophia and pushed something into her hand.
The broken pink scissors.
“You forgot brave.”
Sophia stared at them.
The black leather fiber still clung to the hinge.
And beneath it was something else she hadn’t noticed.
A tiny smear of pale blue paint.
Warehouse paint.
She had seen that exact shade for years on the service doors of one Duca property.
Not warehouse fourteen.
The old Lakeshore Medical Clinic.
The clinic Dr. Ricci had owned before joining the Duca family full-time.
Sophia’s breath stopped.
Matteo had moved her mother.
Ricci knew the drainage tunnels.
Ricci knew every safe location Lorenzo used.
And suddenly Sophia understood something none of the men had.
Matteo was not hiding from Lorenzo.
He was hiding behind Ricci.
She called Marco.
“Don’t go to warehouse fourteen.”
His voice came immediately.
May you like
“Why?”
“Because I know where my mother is.”
