Chapter 18 - Sofia’s Last Secret
Sofia contacted us from a church in Queens.
She asked to see me alone.
Luca refused.
I went anyway.
He followed at a distance.
Sofia sat in the last pew.
She looked twenty years older.
“You deserve to hate me.”
“I don’t know enough yet.”
She nodded.
“That sounds like Eleanor.”
I sat across from her.
“Why were you following my mother?”
“Luca’s father ordered me to.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“He learned Carlo had discovered Eleanor’s bloodline.”
“Antonio wanted to protect her?”
Sofia looked ashamed.
“Not at first.”
Of course.
“He wanted to know whether Eleanor intended to claim the family assets.”
“She didn’t.”
“I learned that quickly.”
Sofia’s eyes filled.
“She wanted nothing from the Morettis.”
I almost smiled.
That was my mother.
“What happened the night she died?”
“Eleanor called me.”
“Why?”
“She knew I was following her.”
That also sounded like my mother.
“She told me to stop hiding.”
Sofia smiled sadly.
“We met at a diner.”
My mother had shown Sofia evidence that Carlo intended to use me.
Sofia agreed to take the evidence to Luca’s father.
Then my mother drove home.
Sofia followed.
“A truck came up behind us.”
Her hands began shaking.
“It struck Eleanor’s car.”
I could barely breathe.
“Did you see the driver?”
“No.”
“But I saw who paid him.”
She handed me a bank transfer.
The payment came from a shell company.
The authorized signatory was Antonio Moretti.
Luca’s father.
I stared at the page.
“Why would he kill her if she gave you evidence?”
“Because Eleanor had also discovered something about him.”
“What?”
Sofia looked toward the church doors.
Then whispered.
“Antonio helped Carlo hide Alessandra’s child.”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted Alessandra’s inheritance line erased.”
My mind spun.
Luca’s father had spent decades pretending his cousin did not exist.
Then Eleanor discovered the truth.
“She threatened to expose him?”
“Yes.”
“So he killed her.”
Sofia nodded.
Tears ran down her face.
“I followed the truck afterward.”
“What?”
“I was angry.”
“Where did it go?”
“To a warehouse in Brooklyn.”
She gave me an address.
“Why tell me now?”
“Because Antonio is dead.”
“So?”
Sofia looked at me.
“But the driver isn’t.”
Luca entered from the side aisle.
“You should have told me years ago.”
Sofia closed her eyes.
“I know.”
His pain was quiet.
That made it worse.
She had raised him.
He loved her.
I understood betrayal now.
Sometimes it came from people who loved you and were too cowardly to tell you the truth.
We drove to Brooklyn with federal agents.
The warehouse had been abandoned.
But beneath a loose floorboard they found records.
Payments.
Photographs.
And a list of names.
One name appeared beside the date of my mother’s death.
Derek Cole.
I stared at it.
“He was there?”
Luca shook his head.
“He would have been nineteen.”
Then an agent found the notation.
NOT DEREK.
SUBJECT D.
A separate code.
We kept searching.
Near dawn, they found the full designation.
SUBJECT D: DONATO MORETTI.
May you like
Luca stopped breathing.
Donato was his middle name.
