Chapter 8 - The Flight to Rome
Dante was on the plane within two hours.
Clara and Sophia were with him.
He argued.
Sophia refused.
He ordered.
Sophia sat in the aircraft seat and crossed her arms.
Eventually Dante stopped pretending he had authority over the matter.
Luca brought four men.
Clara brought the flash drive.
Sophia brought the worn rabbit.
During the flight, Dante sat across from his daughter.
She stared through the window.
He finally said, “I’m sorry.”
Sophia looked at him.
“I should have known.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I should have seen.”
Clara sat nearby, silent.
Dante continued.
“I thought not asking questions would make you feel safe.”
Sophia listened.
“But maybe I was afraid of the answers.”
A long pause.
Sophia reached across the aisle.
She placed her hand on his.
Dante closed his fingers around hers.
Then Sophia whispered, “Daddy.”
He stopped breathing.
Clara turned toward the window because the expression on Dante’s face felt too private to witness.
The second word Sophia had spoken after three years was not a warning.
It was him.
When they landed outside Rome, Luca received news.
Isabella’s villa was empty.
Julian’s blood was found in an upstairs study.
No body.
No Isabella.
Security recordings erased.
But one vehicle had left the property after midnight.
It headed north.
Dante stared at the map.
“Lake house.”
Isabella owned an old estate near Lake Bracciano.
They drove in two cars.
Clara sat beside Sophia.
The little girl had fallen asleep against her.
Dante watched them from the front seat.
“You’re good with her.”
Clara looked up.
“I don’t do anything.”
“That seems to be why.”
“What?”
“Everyone else tried to fix her.”
Clara brushed Sophia’s hair away from her face.
“She wasn’t broken.”
Dante absorbed that.
Clara realized he had probably spent years thinking exactly that.
Broken.
His daughter.
His family.
Himself.
The lake estate was dark when they arrived.
Too dark.
No security.
No staff.
The gates stood open.
Dante’s men entered first.
The house appeared abandoned.
Then Luca found Julian in the wine cellar.
Alive.
Shot through the side.
He was handcuffed to a pipe.
Dante stood above him.
Julian laughed weakly.
“Took you long enough.”
Dante did not smile.
“Where is she?”
“Gone.”
“With Pike?”
Julian stared.
“You found him?”
“We found payments.”
Julian leaned his head against the wall.
“She kept him alive.”
“You knew?”
“I thought he disappeared.”
“Where would she go?”
Julian closed his eyes.
“Somewhere Dante Vancini can’t touch her.”
Dante crouched.
“There is no such place.”
Julian opened one eye.
“You sound like your father.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“No.”
Clara watched from the doorway with Sophia.
Julian saw the child.
He looked away first.
“Sophia.”
She remained silent.
“I’m sorry.”
No response.
“For everything.”
Sophia squeezed Clara’s hand.
Julian did not ask forgiveness.
That mattered.
Dante unlocked the handcuffs.
Luca looked surprised.
“So we’re trusting him now?”
“No.”
Dante helped Julian stand.
“We’re keeping him close enough to watch.”
They found papers upstairs.
Isabella had been preparing to leave Europe.
A private aircraft reservation.
False passports.
Bank transfers.
One destination appeared repeatedly.
New York.
Clara frowned.
“She’s going back?”
Dante looked at the date.
“No.”
“What?”
“She already did.”
The reservation was for two nights earlier.
Isabella had never been in the villa when Julian called.
The background had been staged.
Julian swore.
“She made me think we were still in Rome.”
Clara stared.
“How did you not know?”
“I was brought there drugged.”
Dante’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Isabella.
“Did you enjoy Italy?”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“What home?”
“The one you forgot belongs to me too.”
Dante went still.
The Vancini residence.
Sophia’s home.
Isabella continued.
“I needed something Elena left behind.”
Dante glanced at Clara.
“The safe was empty.”
“Yes.”
“But Elena was clever.”
“What do you want?”
“The flash drive.”
Dante’s eyes shifted toward Clara’s bag.
“And if I say no?”
Isabella laughed softly.
“You won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Clara’s apartment is currently occupied.”
Clara froze.
“My apartment?”
Isabella continued.
“A charming little place.”
Clara grabbed Dante’s arm.
“What is she talking about?”
Then she remembered.
Her father’s belongings.
Boxes she had never opened.
Stored in the bedroom closet.
Isabella said, “Thomas Hale trusted paper more than computers.”
Clara’s heart pounded.
“You think my father left another copy.”
“I know he did.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Then a man shouted.
Isabella lowered her voice.
“Unfortunately, my associate has become impatient.”
Dante said, “Pike.”
“Very good.”
Sophia woke fully.
Isabella continued.
“Bring me Elena’s flash drive.”
“Where?”
“Clara already knows.”
The call ended.
Everyone looked at her.
Clara shook her head.
“No, I don’t.”
Then her phone buzzed.
A photograph.
Her apartment door.
Open.
At the end of the hallway stood a shadow.
May you like
Under the image was one sentence.
COME HOME ALONE.
