Chapter 6 - GIULIA LEFT A RED THREAD THAT LED US TO THE MAN WHO TOOK HER
Elena did not cry when she reached the mansion.
That frightened me.
She arrived forty-two minutes after Giulia disappeared.
No coat.
Hair loose.
Ash on one sleeve.
Two federal agents behind her.
She walked directly toward me.
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Her face went white.
“You have men.”
“Yes.”
“Police.”
“Yes.”
“Cameras.”
“Yes.”
“Then where is my daughter?”
I had no answer.
For once, power looked exactly like what it was.
Limited.
Elena hit me.
Open palm.
Across the face.
Every guard in the room froze.
Enzo looked at the ceiling as if asking God to improve his retirement.
Elena’s hand shook.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I touched my cheek.
“You’re allowed.”
She stared.
“I should never have stayed.”
“No.”
“I should have taken her away.”
“No.”
“You brought us into this.”
That one I could not deny cleanly.
“My house did.”
“My people.”
“My enemy.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled.
I continued:
“But Aldo chose to take her.”
“Not you.”
“Not Giulia.”
“Not me.”
“Aldo.”
She breathed.
Facts.
Hard truth.
I held out my secure phone.
“Come.”
“Where?”
“Security room.”
We watched footage.
Federal apartment stairwell.
Residents evacuating.
Smoke.
Elena carrying Giulia.
Then stopping when an older woman fell.
Elena helped her.
Giulia stood three feet away.
Then realized her scarf was missing.
She ran toward the unit.
A man in firefighter gear appeared.
Helmet.
Mask.
He caught her.
Not violently.
Scooped her up.
Turned down a service corridor.
No one noticed.
Children trust uniforms.
My stomach turned.
Camera caught something else.
As Giulia was carried away, she reached toward a damaged sleeve.
Pulled.
A red thread from her sweater or scarf caught on a metal door hinge.
Then another camera.
Parking garage.
The fake firefighter moved toward a gray utility van.
Giulia’s hand extended.
Something fell.
Red.
Tiny.
A bead.
Then another at the van door.
Elena covered her mouth.
“She’s leaving a trail.”
Enzo smiled grimly.
“Smart kid.”
Federal investigators identified the van within minutes.
Stolen from a heating contractor.
Traffic cameras tracked it south.
Then west.
Exited city.
Last capture near an abandoned industrial corridor connected to Castellano warehouses.
My warehouses.
Of course.
Aldo knew every property.
“He’ll use something off books.”
I said.
Enzo nodded.
“Old cold-storage facilities.”
“Closed ones.”
We narrowed to three.
One near the river.
One outside Newark.
One at Port Morris.
Then Elena said:
“Which one has red doors?”
We stared.
“Why?”
“Giulia draws them.”
“What?”
“Since the hotel.”
“She keeps drawing a warehouse with red doors.”
My pulse changed.
“Did she see it before?”
“She said ghost man takes boxes there.”
Children.
Details.
Adults dismiss.
Enzo searched records.
Port Morris facility.
Red loading doors.
Aldo had used it for “maintenance storage” years earlier.
We moved.
Not an army.
Police and federal teams handled perimeter.
I hated staying behind.
Then Nora, my physical therapist, arrived.
“How did you get here?”
“Enzo called.”
I glared at him.
He shrugged.
“You’re going to try something stupid.”
Correct.
“I’m going.”
Nora folded her arms.
“You can barely climb stairs.”
“My child is there.”
Elena looked at me.
Not my child.
Yet the words came.
Giulia.
The girl who knocked three times.
Told me ghosts were killing my sleep.
Gave me a red bead.
Elena did not correct me.
She said:
“Then use your brain.”
I stared.
She continued.
“If you go in and collapse, they rescue two people.”
Infuriating.
True.
I stayed in command vehicle.
Worst thirty minutes of my life.
Teams entered.
No gunfire at first.
Then one shot.
Another.
Radio.
“Suspect down.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
No answer.
Then:
“Child located.”
Elena made a sound I had never heard from another human being.
Half sob.
Half prayer.
“Condition?”
“Conscious.”
“Uninjured.”
I closed my eyes.
Giulia.
Safe.
Then:
“Primary suspect not located.”
Aldo.
Of course.
Agents brought Giulia out wrapped in a blanket.
Red scarf around her neck.
She had gone back for it.
She saw Elena first.
“Mommy!”
Elena ran.
They collided.
Giulia cried.
Elena cried.
I stayed back.
That moment belonged to them.
Then Giulia looked over Elena’s shoulder.
“Dario!”
She ran toward me.
My cane hit the ground.
I lowered myself carefully.
She crashed into my chest.
I nearly fell.
Worth it.
“You came.”
she said.
“Yes.”
“You walk.”
“Badly.”
She looked at my cane.
“Old man stick.”
Enzo laughed so hard he coughed.
I closed my eyes.
“I risked an empire for this child.”
Giulia hugged me.
Then whispered:
“Ghost boss ran away.”
I froze.
“What?”
She pulled back.
“Aldo?”
I asked.
She nodded.
“He was there?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Elena immediately said:
“Later.”
Right.
Child.
Not witness machine.
We let medical staff examine her.
No injuries beyond smoke irritation and a scrape.
The fake firefighter had been Aldo’s contractor.
Arrested inside.
He confirmed Aldo left fifteen minutes before the raid.
But Giulia had heard something.
Later, with a child specialist present, she explained.
Aldo spoke on the phone.
“Boat.”
“South pier.”
“Camilla.”
That last word changed everything.
“What about Camilla?”
Giulia shrugged.
“He said lady should have stayed in Canada.”
My pulse hardened.
Aldo intended another attack.
Camilla remained under protection in New York after transfer from Montreal.
If he was heading toward water, maybe escape.
Maybe retaliation.
Enzo contacted investigators.
Then Camilla called me herself for the first time.
I stared at the screen.
Answered.
Her face appeared.
Bruised.
Pale.
Alive.
“Dario.”
For a second, every word disappeared.
“You look terrible.”
she said.
I laughed.
There she was.
“You sold my bracelet.”
“I sold my bracelet.”
Fair.
“I thought you stole it.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you trust me?”
She smiled sadly.
“Why didn’t you trust me?”
That landed.
Silence.
Then:
“Aldo knows where I am.”
I sat straighter.
“How?”
“Someone on my protection detail is compromised.”
“Get out.”
“Already moving.”
“Where?”
“You don’t need to know.”
Old Dario hated that.
New Dario understood.
“Good.”
She blinked.
“That was surprisingly mature.”
“I’ve been poisoned.”
“Builds character.”
I almost smiled.
Then she became serious.
“I have more evidence.”
“What?”
“The real reason Aldo poisoned you.”
“I know.”
“Succession.”
“No.”
Camilla shook her head.
“That was only half.”
My stomach tightened.
“What is the other half?”
“Your brother.”
I froze.
“My brother is dead.”
“Luca.”
I had not heard his name in fifteen years.
Killed in Sicily.
At least that was what I believed.
Camilla whispered:
“Aldo has been sending money to someone using Luca’s old identity.”
The world stopped.
“No.”
“I saw the accounts.”
“No.”
“Dario.”
“My brother is dead.”
“Maybe.”
That word detonated.
Maybe.
Camilla continued:
“The payments began six years ago.”
“Every quarter.”
“From Aldo-controlled companies.”
“Where?”
“Portugal.”
“Then Spain.”
“Last year, New Jersey.”
My hand shook.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Then:
“But Aldo spoke to someone three months ago.”
“I heard him through the passage.”
“He said…”
Camilla breathed.
“**Once Dario signs the transfer, you can come home.**”
My brother.
My dead brother.
Possibly alive.
Connected to Aldo.
Waiting for my empire.
The poisoning was no longer one man’s ambition.
It might be family returning from a grave.
May you like
And somewhere south of us, Aldo was moving toward the harbor.
Perhaps toward the final person he intended to place on my throne.
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