Chapter 2 - THE LITTLE GIRL WOKE UP AND ASKED THE ONE QUESTION NOBODY EXPECTED
The smell of gasoline became stronger every second.
Aleandro Moretti slid down the wet embankment, caught himself against a tree, and reached the wreck just as Luca handed him a compact emergency hammer from the sedan.
“Boss, ambulance is seven minutes out.”
“Too long.”
The silver car had landed nose-first between two trees.
The passenger side was crushed.
The driver’s window remained intact, but the windshield had fractured into a white spiderweb.
Max scratched at the rear door until one bloodied paw slipped beneath him.
“Easy.”
Aleandro grabbed the dog by the collar.
Max fought him.
Not aggressively.
Desperately.
“I know.”
Aleandro looked through the glass.
The woman was still unconscious.
Thirty, maybe thirty-two.
Blood along her temple.
Seat belt locked across her chest.
In the back, the child’s eyelids fluttered.
Alive.
Good.
Aleandro struck the lower corner of the driver’s window.
Once.
Twice.
On the third hit, the glass shattered.
He cleared the remaining fragments with his coat wrapped around his arm.
“Ma’am?”
Nothing.
He reached through, found the lock, then forced the damaged door outward with Luca.
Giovanni called down from above.
“Fire department’s coming.”
Aleandro ignored him.
He checked the woman’s pulse.
Fast.
Present.
“Luca, stay with her.”
“What about the kid?”
“I’ve got her.”
The rear passenger door was bent shut.
Aleandro crawled through the broken front opening.
The air inside smelled of fuel, mud, blood, and something chemical from the deployed airbags.
The little girl opened her eyes.
Brown.
Terrified.
She stared at him without speaking.
“Hey.”
Aleandro kept his voice low.
“My name is Aleandro.”
Her lips trembled.
“Mommy.”
“She’s alive.”
The girl tried to turn.
Pain stopped her.
“Don’t move.”
Aleandro examined the seat belt.
It had locked correctly.
No obvious bleeding.
A bruise was already darkening across her collarbone.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Sophie.”
“How old are you, Sophie?”
She lifted one shaking hand.
Five fingers.
Then another finger.
“Six.”
“Good.”
Max barked outside.
Sophie’s eyes widened.
“Max!”
“He’s here.”
“Is he hurt?”
Aleandro almost looked at the dog’s bleeding paws.
Instead:
“He needs a doctor too.”
That seemed to satisfy her.
Then Aleandro heard a sharp hiss from beneath the hood.
Luca did too.
“Boss.”
“I know.”
Aleandro cut Sophie’s seat belt.
He supported her neck and shoulders as carefully as he could.
“I’m going to carry you.”
She stared at him.
“You’re scary.”
Luca made a sound that might have been a cough.
Aleandro almost smiled.
“So I’ve been told.”
“You have blood.”
He looked at his hand.
Glass had cut his knuckles.
“Not important.”
“Mommy says blood is always important.”
Your mother sounds sensible, he thought.
Instead:
“We’ll let a doctor argue with me.”
He lifted Sophie.
She wrapped both arms around his neck instantly.
No hesitation.
Something inside Aleandro went completely still.
Children normally reacted to him the way adults taught them to.
Careful.
Quiet.
Eyes lowered.
Sophie knew none of that.
She simply needed somebody strong enough to get her out of a crushed car.
Aleandro carried her through the broken window.
Luca took her for exactly ten seconds while Aleandro and a newly arrived firefighter worked on the woman.
Paramedics rushed down the slope.
The fuel leak never ignited.
By the time the woman was freed, she was breathing more steadily but remained unconscious.
“Name?”
A paramedic called.
Sophie answered from the stretcher.
“Nora.”
“Nora what, sweetheart?”
“Callahan.”
Aleandro heard it.
Nora Callahan.
Max tried to jump into the ambulance.
A firefighter caught him.
Sophie started screaming.
“MAX!”
Aleandro turned.
“He comes with us.”
The paramedic frowned.
“We can’t transport an injured dog in this ambulance.”
Aleandro looked at Luca.
“Animal hospital.”
“Already calling.”
Sophie grabbed Aleandro’s sleeve.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“Don’t take him away.”
Aleandro crouched beside the stretcher.
“Listen to me.”
Max whined ten feet away.
“He saved you.”
Sophie nodded quickly.
“He needs his own doctor now.”
“Will you bring him back?”
Aleandro hesitated.
Children should not be promised things adults cannot guarantee.
“I’ll do everything I can.”
Sophie stared at him.
Then nodded.
The ambulance doors closed.
Aleandro followed in his own car.
He did not understand why.
Police already had his statement.
His men could handle Max.
The woman and child were strangers.
Still, he followed.
At St. Vincent Medical Center, Nora went directly into trauma imaging.
Sophie suffered a fractured wrist, bruising, mild concussion, and several cuts.
No internal injuries.
No spinal damage.
Luck.
Or Max.
Aleandro sat in a private waiting area with blood drying on his cuff while a detective asked questions.
Why was he driving that road?
He wasn’t.
Why did he follow the dog?
Because the dog asked.
The detective stared at him.
Aleandro stared back.
Eventually the man wrote something.
Two hours later, Luca returned.
“Max is stable.”
Aleandro’s shoulders relaxed before he realized they had been tense.
“Paws?”
“Cut badly. Nothing broken.”
“He lost blood.”
“They treated him.”
“Good.”
Luca looked toward the pediatric room.
“This is unlike you.”
Aleandro’s expression hardened.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Luca smiled faintly.
Then Sophie appeared.
A nurse walked beside her.
Her left wrist sat inside a temporary splint.
Her hair had been cleaned enough to remove most of the blood.
She looked very small in a hospital gown.
The moment she saw Aleandro, she ran toward him.
The nurse reached after her.
“Sophie, slow down.”
Sophie ignored her.
She stopped directly in front of Aleandro.
“Max?”
“Alive.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not tonight.”
Her face fell.
“Tomorrow if the vet says yes.”
“You promise?”
“I promise I’ll ask.”
She considered that distinction.
Then accepted it.
“Mommy?”
Aleandro’s expression changed.
“The doctors are helping her.”
“Is she dead?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Because he had asked the trauma surgeon every fifteen minutes.
He did not say that.
“She has injuries, but the doctors believe she’ll wake up.”
Sophie stared at the floor.
Then whispered:
“Daddy didn’t wake up.”
Aleandro stopped.
The nurse looked away.
“How long ago?”
he asked.
“Three years.”
There was no good response to that.
Aleandro crouched.
“I’m sorry.”
Sophie looked up at him.
“Mommy cries in the shower sometimes because she thinks I can’t hear.”
The honesty of children could be brutal.
Aleandro had spent his adult life among people who used words like weapons and shields.
Sophie simply opened doors.
“Who’s staying with you tonight?”
he asked.
The nurse answered.
“Social work is contacting relatives.”
Sophie shook her head.
“Aunt Kelly lives in Boston.”
“Anyone nearby?”
“No.”
Aleandro looked toward Luca.
Luca already had his phone out.
“No.”
Aleandro said.
Luca frowned.
“What?”
“We do this through the hospital.”
No Moretti men calling private investigators.
No dragging relatives into a situation without consent.
The nurse seemed surprised.
So was Luca.
Aleandro ignored both.
Eventually Sophie’s aunt arranged a morning flight.
A hospital social worker remained.
Aleandro should have left.
Instead he stayed until Nora’s surgeon came out.
“She has a fractured clavicle, two broken ribs, significant concussion, and a deep laceration near the scalp.”
“Internal bleeding?”
“Small splenic injury, stable.”
“Surgery?”
“Not currently.”
“Will she wake up?”
“We expect so.”
Sophie had been listening.
Her shoulders dropped.
Then she walked toward Aleandro again.
This time she looked serious.
“Mr. Aleandro?”
He almost corrected her.
Didn’t.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a wife?”
Luca slowly turned his face toward the wall.
The nurse bit the inside of her cheek.
Aleandro stared at Sophie.
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Sophie.”
the nurse warned.
“What? I’m asking.”
Aleandro almost smiled.
“I work a lot.”
“That’s bad.”
“Apparently.”
Sophie thought.
Then came the question.
“Can you marry my mommy?”
The entire waiting area froze.
Luca actually stopped breathing.
The social worker looked horrified.
Aleandro heard one of his guards make a choking sound near the door.
Sophie continued as though she had asked whether he liked pancakes.
“You saved us.”
“You like Max.”
“And Mommy needs somebody when she’s sad.”
Aleandro looked at this six-year-old child standing in a hospital gown with one wrist wrapped and fear still sitting behind her eyes.
Twenty years of Moretti men would have answered with a joke.
Or possessive certainty.
Or something charming designed to control the room.
Aleandro did not.
“No.”
Everyone froze harder.
Sophie’s face collapsed.
Then Aleandro continued.
“Not because I don’t like your mommy.”
Sophie stared.
“I don’t know her.”
“But I saved her.”
“Yes.”
“That means I helped her.”
“It doesn’t mean she owes me anything.”
Sophie frowned.
Aleandro spoke gently.
“If someday your mother knows me, and she likes me, and I like her, and she wants to marry me…”
He paused.
“Then she gets to ask or say yes for herself.”
Sophie considered this with tremendous seriousness.
“So you might?”
Luca covered his face.
Aleandro sighed.
“Go to sleep.”
Sophie smiled.
That was enough.
Then a voice came from behind them.
Weak.
Hoarse.
Female.
“If you’re discussing my wedding plans…”
Everyone turned.
Nora Callahan stood ten feet away in a wheelchair, a nurse behind her.
Bandage near her hairline.
One arm supported in a sling.
Pale as paper.
But awake.
Her eyes moved from Sophie—
to Aleandro.
Then to Luca.
Then to the Moretti security men.
Recognition entered her face.
Not gratitude.
Fear.
“Aleandro Moretti.”
she whispered.
Aleandro’s expression changed.
May you like
Nora knew exactly who he was.
And judging by the terror in her eyes, she believed he might be the reason her car went over that guardrail.
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