Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
Sophia didn't touch the photograph.
She stared at it as if touching it might make the woman disappear.
"My mother is dead."
Dominic Serra shook his head.
"No."
"I went to her funeral."
"There was a coffin."
"I saw it."
"It was closed."
Sophia's breathing changed.
Dominic spoke gently.
"The body belonged to another woman who had died in the river upstream."
Isabella looked sick.
"And you let us believe it?"
"I was trying to keep your mother alive."
"For fourteen years?" Sophia asked.
"Yes."
"You let two children believe their mother abandoned them to a grave."
Dominic didn't defend himself.
That told me more than any excuse could.
Sophia picked up the photograph.
Her hand shook.
"Where?"
"Vermont."
"When was this taken?"
"Six days ago."
"She knows about the wedding?"
"Yes."
Sophia looked up sharply.
"She let it happen."
"No."
"She knew."
"Three weeks ago."
"That is enough time to call."
"Your father's people monitor every person who gets close to you."
"She could have tried!"
Dominic's voice broke.
"She did."
Silence.
He reached into his coat again and removed another envelope.
Dozens of returned letters.
All addressed to Sophia.
Different years.
Different handwriting styles as Sophia's home addresses changed.
Each marked undeliverable.
Some looked opened and resealed.
"Your father intercepted them."
Sophia stared.
"How many?"
"Seventy-two."
She sat.
I wanted to go to her.
I didn't.
Not yet.
She had spent her entire life being physically directed by other people.
Comfort should not become another form of control.
Isabella knelt beside her.
Sophia opened the oldest letter.
She read silently.
Tears fell.
Then she handed it to Isabella.
I looked away.
Some things weren't mine.
Dominic turned toward me.
"Antonio helped us."
"My father took Vittorio's money."
"He did."
"Then changed his mind."
"After he met Lucia."
"Why?"
"Because he discovered Vittorio wasn't simply stealing trust assets."
"What else?"
Dominic looked toward Sophia.
"Vittorio intended to have Sophia declared legally incompetent when she turned eighteen."
Sophia stared at him.
"What?"
"He needed permanent control over the trust. Lucia found drafts prepared by lawyers."
"On what grounds?"
"Psychiatric instability."
Something clicked.
Saint Michael's.
The labels.
Noncompliant.
Silence achieved.
They weren't simply training Sophia.
They were creating records.
"What did Saint Michael's have to do with it?" I asked.
Catherine answered.
"The program produced behavioral reports."
Sophia's face changed.
"You wrote them."
Catherine nodded miserably.
"Yes."
"You said I was unstable."
"I was ordered to."
"You wrote that I had violent episodes."
"I know."
"I never touched anyone!"
"I know."
Sophia stood.
For the first time, anger completely replaced fear.
"You locked me in a dark room for eight hours because I asked to call Isabella."
Catherine cried.
"I'm sorry."
"You told my father I tried to hurt myself."
"I know."
"I didn't!"
"I know."
Sophia stepped closer.
"You told me if I kept crying, they'd send Isabella there too."
Catherine couldn't answer.
Sophia slapped her.
The sound cracked through the room.
Then Sophia immediately recoiled from her own action.
"I'm sorry."
Catherine touched her cheek.
"No."
She was crying harder now.
"Don't apologize for that."
Sophia turned away.
I watched something happening inside her.
Not healing.
Healing is too clean a word.
This was excavation.
Every truth exposed another buried thing.
Dominic continued.
"When Lucia escaped, Antonio helped arrange money, documents and a safe property."
"Why didn't she take Sophia?"
"She tried."
"What happened?"
"Vittorio already had her."
Sophia whispered, "I was at Teresa's house."
Dominic nodded.
"We tried twice over the following month."
"And Isabella?"
"You were born the year after Lucia disappeared."
Isabella looked confused.
"Then Lucia isn't my mother."
Nobody answered.
Her face changed.
Sophia looked at Dominic.
"Who is Isabella's mother?"
Dominic stared at the floor.
Isabella stood.
"Who?"
Catherine closed her eyes.
That was the answer before the words came.
Isabella backed away.
"No."
Catherine whispered, "I'm sorry."
Isabella looked between them.
"No."
Sophia grabbed her hand.
Isabella pulled away.
"Don't."
Catherine said, "I gave birth to you seventeen years ago."
The room went dead.
Isabella stared at her.
"You?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Catherine's voice shook.
"Vittorio."
I felt my jaw tighten.
She didn't need to explain further in detail.
The expression on her face made the coercion clear.
"He kept you near the family?" I asked.
Catherine nodded.
"He told everyone Lucia had been pregnant when she died. Then he presented Isabella months later as a premature infant Sophia never remembered."
Sophia whispered, "I was six."
"You were grieving. Confused. He made the household repeat the story."
Sophia looked at Isabella.
"You're still my sister."
Isabella's eyes filled.
"I know."
Those four words destroyed something in both of them.
Sophia hugged her.
This time Isabella held on.
I let them.
Then Dominic looked at me.
"There's another reason Vittorio wanted the marriage."
"What?"
"Your family's assets."
"I suspected."
"No. Not your current businesses."
He took out a folded legal document.
"Antonio left a sealed codicil."
"My father's will was settled five years ago."
"Not all of it."
I read the first page.
Antonio had created a private holding company years earlier.
Its controlling interest transferred only under one condition.
Marriage between the DeLuca heir and Lucia Carbone's eldest daughter.
I looked up.
"What the hell is this?"
"Antonio's attempt to repair what he helped break."
"By arranging my marriage from the grave?"
"He never expected Vittorio to discover it."
"But he did."
"Last year."
"How much is the holding company worth?"
Marco took the paper.
His eyes widened.
"Matteo."
"How much?"
"At least six hundred million."
Sophia looked horrified.
"So my father gets access to both?"
"Not automatically," Dominic said. "But as Sophia's father, he expected to force her to sign control documents after marriage."
I finally understood.
The treaty had never been about territory.
Vittorio needed Sophia married to me because the marriage activated my father's hidden assets.
Then he needed me dead.
Then Sophia blamed.
Then Sophia killed or declared incompetent.
He would control everything.
Nearly two billion dollars.
A war staged for six years to make a marriage look politically necessary.
Forty-two men dead.
Maybe more.
All for money.
I looked at Dominic.
"Where's Lucia?"
"Safe."
"No more games."
"She wants Sophia to choose."
Sophia wiped her eyes.
"Choose what?"
"Whether to see her."
Sophia laughed once.
It wasn't amused.
"After fourteen years?"
"She knows she doesn't have the right to demand anything."
Sophia looked at the photograph.
"Take me to her."
Dominic nodded.
I said, "We go together."
Sophia looked at me.
For a moment I expected resistance.
Instead she nodded.
"Together."
It was the first time she chose me without obligation.
We left New York before sunset.
Only Marco came with us.
Isabella stayed with Elena at my family home under heavy security.
Dominic led us north.
For nearly four hours, Sophia said almost nothing.
At one point, she fell asleep.
Not upright.
Not against the window.
Her head slowly lowered onto my shoulder.
The entire car went silent.
I didn't move.
I barely breathed.
It shouldn't have mattered.
It did.
Near midnight we reached a small farmhouse outside Manchester, Vermont.
One porch light burned.
Sophia woke.
She saw the house.
Her hand found mine.
Not because I reached first.
Because she did.
"She's inside?" she whispered.
Dominic nodded.
Sophia stepped out.
The front door opened before we reached the porch.
A woman appeared.
Older than the photographs.
Silver beginning in her dark hair.
One hand covered her mouth.
Sophia stopped.
The woman began crying.
"Sophia."
My wife made a sound I would remember for the rest of my life.
Not a word.
Not quite a sob.
Something younger.
The sound of a six-year-old girl hearing her mother call her name after fourteen years of silence.
Lucia took one step forward.
Sophia didn't move.
Lucia stopped immediately.
"I'm sorry."
Sophia's tears fell.
"You left me."
"I know."
"You were alive."
"Yes."
"You were alive every birthday."
"Yes."
"Every Christmas."
"Yes."
"I thought you were dead."
Lucia's shoulders shook.
"I know."
Sophia stared at her.
Then asked the only question that mattered.
"Did you ever stop trying to come back?"
Lucia shook her head.
"Never."
Sophia crossed the porch.
Mother and daughter collapsed into each other's arms.
I turned away.
Dominic did too.
Marco suddenly found the trees fascinating.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then a shot shattered the porch light.
Glass exploded.
I grabbed Sophia and pulled her down.
Marco drew his gun.
Dominic shouted.
Another bullet slammed into the front door.
Lucia screamed.
Headlights appeared beyond the trees.
Three vehicles.
I knew before I saw the men.
Vittorio had found us.
And through the darkness, a voice boomed from a loudspeaker.
"Sophia!"
Her father.
"Come outside."
I drew my weapon.
Sophia grabbed my wrist.
"No."
I looked at her.
The frightened bride from the night before was gone.
Not completely.
Maybe fear never disappears completely.
But this time she wasn't letting it decide.
She stood.
"He's been choosing for me my whole life."
May you like
She looked toward the approaching headlights.
"Tonight I choose what happens next."
