Chapter 14 - Captain
Sofia clutched the rabbit tighter.
“No!”
Salvatore froze.
The toy was old.
Dirty.
Missing one eye.
The same rabbit from Luca’s photograph.
“Sweetheart,” Elena said carefully, “give Captain to me.”
Sofia backed away.
“No.”
“We need to look at him.”
“You’ll take him.”
“I won’t.”
“You always leave.”
Elena’s face crumpled.
Salvatore looked at the timer inside the boiler room.
Less than four minutes.
He crouched.
“Sofia.”
The girl stared at him.
She had never seen him before tonight.
“You know who I am?”
“Bad man.”
Carmine muttered, “Accurate branding.”
Salvatore ignored him.
“Maybe.”
Sofia hugged the rabbit.
“But I need Captain for one minute.”
“No.”
“Then you come with me.”
She frowned.
“Where?”
“Away from everybody.”
Elena understood.
“No.”
Salvatore looked at her.
“If it goes off—”
“No.”
“Take Matteo.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“You are not walking away carrying a bomb and a seven-year-old.”
Sofia spoke.
“Bomb?”
Everyone stopped.
Salvatore cursed himself.
Wrong word.
The child’s eyes widened.
“Captain is sick?”
Salvatore softened his voice.
“Yes.”
“Can you fix him?”
“I’m going to try.”
She looked at the rabbit.
Then at him.
“Promise?”
He had made promises before.
To men.
To families.
To himself.
This one terrified him.
“I promise I’ll try.”
Sofia held out Captain.
Salvatore took it.
Carmine ran with him toward the empty tennis field.
They set the rabbit on the ground.
Salvatore sliced the stitching.
Inside was a plastic case.
Wires.
A transmitter.
No visible timer.
Carmine swore.
“Remote trigger.”
“Can you disarm it?”
“I guard gates.”
“Useful.”
They backed away.
Thirty seconds.
A bomb technician on the radio shouted instructions.
Blue wire.
Then green.
Salvatore cut both.
Nothing.
Ten seconds.
He looked toward the house.
Matteo stood behind the window.
Watching.
Elena held Sofia.
Salvatore could not die here.
Not after finding them.
Not before understanding what they could become.
Three.
Two.
One.
Nothing happened.
Carmine exhaled.
“That’s anticlimactic.”
The rabbit’s remaining eye blinked red.
Salvatore’s stomach dropped.
“Run.”
They threw themselves behind a stone wall.
Captain exploded.
Dirt rained down.
Windows rattled.
But the blast was small.
Designed to kill anyone holding it.
Not destroy the estate.
Luca had expected Sofia to be holding the rabbit when it detonated.
Elena understood that too.
When Salvatore returned, her face had changed.
Whatever love she once held for Luca as a brother was gone.
“I want him dead.”
Salvatore looked at her.
“No.”
She stared.
“No?”
“You want him stopped.”
“I know what I said.”
“So do I.”
“He put a bomb inside his daughter’s toy.”
“He deserves worse than death.”
“What?”
Salvatore looked toward Matteo.
“He deserves to live long enough to understand his children chose a life without him.”
That night, the surviving Moretti household relocated to Isabella’s father’s compound.
Romano territory.
An alliance born from necessity.
Matteo slept beside Sofia.
Neither wanted separate rooms.
Salvatore stood outside the door.
Elena joined him.
“You would have died for her.”
“Yes.”
“You met her an hour ago.”
“She’s a child.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
Elena waited.
Salvatore looked through the doorway.
“That’s enough.”
Her expression softened.
“I was wrong about you.”
“Eight years late.”
“I deserved that.”
He looked at her.
“No.”
She blinked.
“You deserved many things. Not what happened.”
For the first time since the hospital, anger left her face.
“Salvatore…”
Carmine appeared.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever emotionally constipated thing is happening.”
Salvatore glared.
“What?”
“We found the bank vault.”
Elena straightened.
“Antonio’s archive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Manhattan.”
“When can we access it?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Carmine hesitated.
“But there’s a problem.”
“Of course.”
“The key needs two signatures.”
“Whose?”
Carmine looked at Salvatore.
“Antonio Moretti.”
“He’s dead.”
“And Gabriel Vale.”
Salvatore laughed bitterly.
“Where is Vale?”
“Gone.”
“What?”
“He disappeared after the mausoleum attack.”
Elena said, “Crane took him.”
Carmine shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
He showed them security footage from the hospital parking lot.
Gabriel Vale entered a car willingly.
The driver turned toward the camera.
Maria Moretti.
Salvatore stared.
“My grandmother kidnapped my father?”
Carmine shrugged.
“Family reunion?”
The phone rang.
Maria.
Salvatore answered.
“You have Vale.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel knows what is really in the vault.”
“We already know.”
“No, grandson.”
Her voice lowered.
“You know about stolen children.”
A pause.
“You do not know that one of those children grew up inside your own house.”
Salvatore went still.
“Who?”
May you like
Maria answered:
“Carmine.”
