Chapter 7 - THE MAN WHO FINALLY TOLD ME WHERE ALINA WENT
Owen Blake had three broken ribs, a shattered wrist, and enough internal bleeding that doctors were not sure he would survive surgery.
Lena Morales arranged police protection.
I stood outside the ICU.
“You don’t go in threatening him,” she said.
“He helped hunt my wife.”
“Yes.”
“He watched my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I’m aware of what he did.”
“Then stop saying it like I might forget.”
I looked at her.
She did not blink.
Good.
Owen woke six hours later.
Weak.
Pale.
One side of his face purple.
He saw me.
Fear entered immediately.
“Marco.”
I stood at the foot of his bed.
“Where is Alina?”
His eyes moved toward Lena.
She said, “Mr. Blake, your attorney is present.”
Public defender.
Owen looked at him.
Then at me.
“Matteo tried to kill me.”
I said nothing.
“Car brakes.”
Lena asked, “Why?”
Owen laughed painfully.
“Because I failed.”
“To do what?”
He looked at me.
“Find her first.”
My hands tightened.
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know now.”
“Before?”
“Madison.”
We knew.
“Then?”
“She caught me following her.”
“Did you hurt her?”
“No.”
I leaned closer.
“Do not lie.”
“I didn’t.”
His voice cracked.
“She had a gun.”
That sounded like Alina by year six.
“What happened?”
“She cornered me in a parking garage.”
I almost smiled.
Of course she did.
“She said if I took one more step toward Sophia, she’d shoot me.”
“What did you say?”
“That Matteo would find her anyway.”
Owen closed his eyes.
“She asked why.”
I waited.
“I told her.”
“What?”
“That Matteo wasn’t looking for her anymore because she had evidence.”
My pulse changed.
“What?”
“He wanted her because of you.”
I stared.
Owen continued.
“Matteo knows you never really stopped loving her.”
No.
Of course.
“He figured if things ever turned against him, Alina was the one person who could pull you out of position.”
“Leverage.”
“Yes.”
Everything in Matteo’s world became leverage.
Family.
Love.
Grief.
Owen said Alina realized then that running indefinitely only preserved Matteo’s power.
So she changed strategy.
She decided to gather enough evidence to destroy him.
“Where did she go?”
Owen looked at Lena.
“I want protection.”
“You’re in a hospital with police.”
“Not enough.”
“Then give us something worth protecting.”
He swallowed.
“Viktor Bellini.”
Silence.
Lena leaned forward.
“What?”
“Alina contacted Bellini.”
I nearly laughed from disbelief.
“My wife contacted the man who helped Matteo kill my father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Bellini hates Matteo now.”
Of course.
Criminal alliances last until profit changes.
Matteo had begun cutting Bellini out of routes.
Bellini had evidence.
Matteo had evidence on Bellini.
Alina positioned herself between enemies.
Dangerous.
Brilliant.
Terrifying.
“Where did they meet?”
“Gary.”
Indiana.
“Where in Gary?”
“Old St. Agnes school.”
Lena was already moving.
“Time?”
“Three days ago.”
“After?”
Owen shook his head.
“I lost her.”
My heart sank.
Then:
“But Bellini’s man followed.”
“Name.”
“Tommaso Vale.”
Lena checked.
Federal organized-crime target.
We located Tommaso within twelve hours.
Not legally at first.
My men found him.
I did not touch him.
I sent his location to Lena.
Growth, apparently.
He was arrested on an outstanding warrant.
His lawyer negotiated.
Tommaso admitted Viktor met Alina.
She offered copies of Matteo’s financial ledger in exchange for a recording of Matteo discussing my father’s ambush.
Bellini had one.
Why?
Insurance.
Everyone in this world kept insurance.
“Did she get it?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Tommaso smiled.
“Smart woman.”
I stepped forward.
Lena blocked me.
He continued.
“She didn’t tell us.”
“What did she say?”
“That she was going somewhere Matteo would never look.”
I laughed bitterly.
Matteo looked everywhere.
Then Tommaso added:
“She said she was done hiding from Marco too.”
My heart stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“She wanted to come back.”
Sophia.
Me.
Home.
“Then where?”
“She asked one question.”
“What?”
“Does the old Vitelli lake house still exist?”
I went completely still.
Lake Geneva.
My mother’s property.
Closed thirteen years.
Not owned through the organization anymore.
After my mother died, I transferred it into a private family trust.
Matteo hated the place.
He had been there once.
My mother caught him stealing liquor at sixteen and chased him off the dock with a broom.
He never returned.
Alina knew.
I left before Tommaso finished speaking.
Lena shouted after me.
“Marco!”
“I’m calling when I get there.”
“You’re not going alone.”
“I know.”
Nico drove.
Federal agents followed because apparently I was becoming a citizen.
Sophia stayed with Rebecca.
She cried.
I promised only one thing.
“I’m going to see if Mommy is there.”
No promise to bring her back.
No certainty.
The lake house stood behind pines and a rusted gate.
Windows boarded.
Dock half collapsed.
No lights.
I stepped out.
Nico caught my arm.
“Wait.”
Fresh tire tracks.
Someone had been there.
We approached slowly.
Door unlocked.
Inside smelled like dust.
Wood.
Lake water.
And coffee.
Fresh coffee.
My heart slammed.
“Alina?”
Nothing.
I moved through the living room.
Kitchen.
Hallway.
Then upstairs.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
I turned.
Gun.
Pointed at my chest.
Held by a woman with dark hair cut shorter than I remembered.
Thin face.
Green sweater.
Hands shaking.
Alina.
The world stopped.
She stared at me.
I stared at her.
Six years disappeared and remained at the same time.
“Marco?”
Her voice broke.
I could not speak.
Her gun lowered.
Not fully.
“Is Sophia safe?”
That was her first question.
Not why are you here.
Not how did you find me.
Our daughter.
“Yes.”
Alina’s face collapsed.
“Where?”
“With an attorney I trust.”
“You trust?”
“Yes.”
She almost laughed.
“Finally.”
Then:
“Did she know you?”
I took one step.
“Yes.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“She remembered the picture?”
“Yes.”
“She called me Daddy.”
Alina covered her mouth.
The gun dropped to her side.
I moved.
Stopped.
I wanted to hold her.
I had no right to assume.
“Can I?”
She looked at me.
Then nodded.
I crossed the room.
Alina hit my chest with both hands before I could touch her.
Once.
Twice.
“You stopped.”
Again.
“You stopped looking.”
I took every hit.
“You stopped.”
Her fists weakened.
“I thought you believed him.”
“I did.”
She cried harder.
“I thought you chose him.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I waited.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
She pushed me away.
“I waited for you to understand.”
My throat closed.
“I failed.”
That stopped her.
No excuse.
No Matteo did this.
No you told me to stop.
I failed.
“I trusted him more than your fear.”
Alina stared.
“I should have found a way that didn’t use his network.”
“Yes.”
“I should have questioned why every lead died.”
“Yes.”
“I should have known you better than a note.”
Her face broke.
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
For six years, I imagined our reunion as something else.
Alina running into my arms.
Love defeating time.
That was fantasy.
Reality contained anger.
Trauma.
Blame.
Love buried beneath all of it.
She sat down.
I stayed standing.
“Is she okay?”
“Sophia?”
“Yes.”
“She has nightmares.”
Alina closed her eyes.
“She likes purple.”
“I know.”
“She hates peas.”
“Good.”
“She still sleeps with Benny.”
“I found the key.”
Alina smiled through tears.
“Good.”
“I found your recordings.”
Her face changed.
“Then you know Matteo.”
“Yes.”
“You believe me?”
“Yes.”
She laughed once.
Painful.
“That would have been useful six years ago.”
I accepted it.
Then she looked toward the window.
“We need to leave.”
“Why?”
“I was followed two days ago.”
“By Matteo?”
“Maybe Bellini. Maybe both.”
She stood.
“I came here because I thought nobody knew.”
Nico shouted downstairs.
“Boss!”
Then gunfire shattered a window.
I grabbed Alina.
Pulled her behind the wall.
Nico returned fire.
Federal agents shouted outside.
A vehicle tore away from the tree line.
No one inside was hit.
When silence returned, Alina looked at me.
“Your life is still terrible.”
I almost laughed.
“Yes.”
She looked toward the staircase.
Then at me.
“I want Sophia.”
My chest tightened.
“Now.”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
Whatever existed between Alina and me could wait.
Mother and daughter could not.
We left the lake house under federal escort.
Three hours later, Rebecca opened the farmhouse door.
Sophia stood behind her.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then:
“Mommy?”
Alina collapsed to her knees.
Sophia screamed.
“Mommy!”
They ran.
I turned away because the sight hurt too much.
Alina held her.
Sophia climbed into her arms like she was still small enough to fit there.
“You came back!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Three sleeps!”
“I know.”
“You said three!”
“I know, baby.”
Alina cried into her hair.
“I tried.”
Sophia hit her shoulder once.
Then hugged tighter.
I stood by the door.
Not part of the embrace.
That was okay.
Eventually Sophia looked at me.
“Daddy.”
She held out one hand.
I stared.
Alina looked at me too.
Sophia reached farther.
“Come.”
I went.
The three of us held each other.
Broken.
Alive.
Together.
For the first time in six years.
May you like
And across Chicago, Matteo Rizzo still believed Alina Vitelli was a ghost.
He was about to learn ghosts can testify.
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