Chapter 6 - THE SECRET UNDER SALVATORE’S GRAVE
The Moretti family chapel sat on twelve wooded acres in Westchester.
Old stone.
Stained glass.
A cemetery behind it where four generations of Morettis had been buried beneath marble markers and expensive lies.
Dominic had not visited since his father’s funeral.
He arrived just after sunrise.
Victor drove.
Sophia came despite Dominic arguing against it.
She had won by asking one question.
“If Daniel hid something there for me, who exactly do you think should see it first?”
Dominic had no good answer.
Lily stayed at the mansion with Mary and enough security to invade a small country.
Dominic had personally checked the team twice.
Sophia noticed.
“You trust Victor.”
“Yes.”
“But you checked his orders.”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust anyone completely?”
“No.”
She looked out the window.
“That sounds lonely.”
“It is efficient.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He didn’t answer.
At the chapel, Victor opened an old service entrance.
The basement smelled of stone and damp wood.
Sophia wrapped her arms around herself.
“Daniel came here?”
“We don’t know.”
Dominic walked toward a wall lined with storage cabinets.
Bluebird had been his father’s designation for sensitive family archives decades earlier.
Not records meant for prosecutors.
Records meant for leverage.
Salvatore kept information the way other men kept wine.
For the future.
Victor found an old keypad behind a wooden panel.
“Code?”
Dominic entered his mother’s birthday.
Rejected.
His father’s birthday.
Rejected.
The year Salvatore founded his first company.
Rejected.
Sophia stood behind him.
“What did your father care about most?”
Dominic glanced at her.
“Power.”
“That's not a number.”
Victor almost smiled.
Sophia looked at the keypad.
“What about the year you were born?”
Dominic stared.
“My father did not build security codes around sentiment.”
“Try it.”
He did.
The lock clicked.
Victor raised one eyebrow.
Dominic glared at both of them.
“No commentary.”
The hidden door opened.
Inside were shelves.
Boxes.
Old ledgers.
Hard drives.
Photographs.
Dominic stopped.
He had known his father kept secrets.
He had underestimated the volume.
Sophia whispered, “Jesus.”
Victor walked slowly.
“Salvatore never threw anything away.”
Dominic looked at one shelf.
Labels.
Judges.
Police.
Labor.
Ports.
Partners.
Enemies.
Then one marked FAMILY.
He hated that most.
Sophia saw his face.
“You don't have to open everything today.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody else might.”
She understood.
They searched for anything marked Bluebird.
Twenty minutes.
Nothing.
Then Sophia saw a small carved bird on the side of an old wooden drawer.
“Dominic.”
He turned.
Blue bird.
Not a code name.
An actual bird.
Painted blue years ago.
Victor opened the drawer.
Empty.
Almost.
One envelope lay flat beneath the lining.
Sophia took it.
Her name was written across the front.
SOPHIA.
She stopped breathing.
Daniel’s handwriting.
She knew instantly.
“Oh my God.”
Dominic stepped away.
Victor did too.
This was hers.
Sophia opened the envelope with shaking hands.
Inside were three pages and a small key.
She read silently.
Halfway through, she sat down on the stone floor.
Dominic moved.
“Sophia.”
She lifted one hand.
Wait.
He did.
Tears rolled down her face.
When she finished, she looked at Dominic.
“He knew.”
“What?”
“That he was in danger.”
She handed him the pages.
Dominic hesitated.
“You’re sure?”
“Read it.”
Daniel’s handwriting was rushed.
Sophia—
If you’re reading this, I was right to be scared.
I found trailers leaving Morgan Atlantic at night with duplicate shipping numbers. The records say machine parts. They aren’t machine parts.
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
The letter didn't describe specifics.
Daniel had been careful.
It named Gabriel.
Mr. Rizzo told me this was above my pay grade. He said I should forget what I saw.
I told him I’d already called security.
He changed after that.
Dominic kept reading.
Then came a sentence that made his blood run cold.
I don’t think Mr. Moretti knows.
Sophia watched him.
Daniel had believed Dominic was not involved.
That should have relieved him.
It didn't.
His organization.
His name.
His failure.
The letter continued.
If anything happens, there is a storage box at Union Station under the name Bennett. The key is enclosed.
Bennett.
Sophia’s maiden name.
She held up the small key.
Victor was already checking.
“There’s no Union Station in New York.”
Sophia looked at him.
“Daniel was from Washington.”
Dominic nodded.
“Union Station, D.C.”
Victor made a call.
Then Dominic reached the final paragraph.
Tell Lily I loved being her dad more than anything I ever did.
Tell her I was trying to do the right thing.
And Soph—
I’m sorry I took the extra shift.
I should have come home.
Sophia made a broken sound.
Dominic stopped reading.
He folded the letter carefully.
Sophia covered her face.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Dominic crouched beside her.
He did not touch her.
Not until she reached first.
Her hand closed around his wrist.
Dominic froze.
Sophia leaned forward.
He put his arms around her.
Carefully.
As though she might disappear.
She cried against his shoulder.
Not politely.
Not quietly.
Two years of grief.
Two years of doubt.
Two years of wondering whether Daniel had died because of bad luck.
Dominic held her.
His father’s voice whispered somewhere inside him.
Need is dangerous.
Love gives enemies weapons.
Dominic looked down at the woman crying in his arms.
Maybe Salvatore had been right about the danger.
He had been wrong about what to do with it.
Danger did not mean worthless.
Fire was dangerous.
So was loyalty.
So was telling the truth.
Sophia eventually pulled back.
“I’m sorry.”
Dominic shook his head.
“No.”
She wiped her eyes.
“Right. No apologizing for crying.”
“I have recently adopted the policy.”
Her laugh came through tears.
Victor stood several feet away pretending to inspect shelves.
Sophia looked at Daniel’s letter.
“We have to go to Washington.”
“Yes.”
Victor turned.
“No.”
Dominic looked at him.
Victor folded his arms.
“Gabriel knows Daniel left something. That is why he searched Sophia’s address and sent someone for Lily.”
“You think he knows where.”
“Maybe not exactly.”
Sophia stood.
“Then we get there first.”
Victor shook his head.
“This is not a road trip.”
Sophia looked at him.
“I’m aware.”
“Gabriel has resources.”
“So does Dominic.”
Victor looked at Dominic.
Sophia followed.
Dominic sighed.
“Unfortunately, she has discovered this.”
Two hours later, Victor arranged for a trusted team in Washington to secure the station area.
Dominic and Sophia returned to the mansion first.
Lily ran to the front entrance.
She collided with Sophia.
Then reached for Dominic.
He picked her up.
Nobody said anything.
Not even Victor.
Lily placed both hands on Dominic’s face.
“You came back.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
“Yes.”
“You took too long.”
“I apologize.”
Sophia smiled.
Dominic carried Lily toward the sitting room.
She looked over his shoulder.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Dominic knows how to carry kids.”
Sophia laughed.
“Apparently.”
Dominic looked offended.
“I have arms.”
Lily rested her head against his shoulder.
“Daddy carried me.”
Everything stopped.
Sophia's smile disappeared.
Lily continued innocently.
“But I was little.”
She was still little.
Dominic felt Sophia’s eyes on him.
He said nothing.
Lily played with his tie.
“Can Leonardo sleep in my room?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s yours.”
“I can lend him.”
“For how many sleeps?”
“As many as necessary.”
Sophia looked away.
That evening, while Lily ate pasta in the kitchen, Victor received confirmation.
The storage box still existed.
Registered six weeks before Daniel’s death.
Never accessed after.
Dominic made the decision.
“We leave at five.”
Sophia nodded.
Victor said, “One more thing.”
“What?”
“Gabriel called me.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“What did he want?”
“To talk to you.”
“Give me the number.”
“He said he’ll call again.”
“Why didn't you keep him on?”
“I did.”
Victor slid a tablet over.
“Long enough to trace.”
Dominic looked at the map.
Gabriel was no longer in New York.
He was in Maryland.
Less than forty miles from Washington, D.C.
Sophia saw it.
“He knows.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Maybe.”
Victor shook his head.
“He knows enough.”
Dominic looked toward the kitchen where Lily was telling a cook that green pasta tasted suspicious.
Then toward Daniel’s letter.
The race was no longer about solving a two-year-old death.
May you like
Gabriel was moving toward the evidence.
And whichever side reached that storage box first would decide whether Daniel Carter’s final act disappeared forever.
