Chapter 3 - The Photograph in the Bible
“Give me the phone.”
Riccardo reached for it.
Sofia pulled away.
“No.”
“I need to see what she wrote.”
“You need to stay away from me.”
“Sofia.”
“Don’t call me that like you know me.”
Her voice cracked.
Everyone in the room went silent.
“You think you see a bracelet and suddenly I’m your daughter?”
Riccardo stared at her.
“I don’t know what I think.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
Marco approached carefully.
“We should move. If Elena ran, someone may know we’re here.”
Riccardo nodded.
“We leave through the service exit.”
Sofia laughed.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Antonio spoke from the wall.
“You should.”
She turned on him.
“You lied to me every day I worked here.”
“I kept you alive.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“For how long?”
Antonio’s silence answered her.
Sofia slapped him.
The crack echoed through the room.
Antonio took it without moving.
“You watched me carry trays past him for two years.”
His eyes filled with shame.
“Yes.”
“You watched me serve my own father?”
“If he is your father.”
“Don’t.”
Sofia pointed at him.
“Don’t do that.”
Riccardo suddenly looked toward the windows.
Two black SUVs had stopped outside.
Not his.
Marco saw them too.
“Move.”
Everything happened at once.
The lights went out.
Someone screamed in the restaurant.
Glass shattered in the front dining room.
Marco pulled Sofia down behind the table.
“Stay low.”
Gunshots exploded near the entrance.
Sofia covered her ears.
Riccardo drew a pistol.
She stared at him.
“You carry a gun to dinner?”
He fired toward the doorway.
“Tonight you’ll appreciate it.”
Marco shouted, “Kitchen!”
Riccardo grabbed Sofia’s hand.
She jerked away.
“I can run myself.”
“Then run.”
They sprinted through the kitchen.
Cooks scattered.
A bullet punched through a stainless-steel shelf.
Sofia screamed.
Riccardo pushed her behind a freezer.
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know.”
Antonio arrived behind them, breathing hard.
“I do.”
Riccardo aimed at him.
Antonio raised both hands.
“Salvatore Greco.”
Riccardo’s face darkened.
Sofia had heard that name.
Everyone in Chicago had.
Greco controlled construction unions, clubs, trucking companies, and enough politicians to make newspapers nervous.
Riccardo lowered his gun slightly.
“Why would Greco care about her?”
Antonio looked at Sofia.
“Because Chiara surviving changes everything.”
“Everything about what?”
Antonio hesitated.
A bullet hit the freezer door.
Riccardo fired back.
“Talk.”
“Your wife didn’t die accidentally.”
Riccardo froze.
Antonio continued.
“And the hospital fire wasn’t meant to kill you.”
“Then who?”
“Isabella.”
Sofia looked between them.
“Who is Isabella?”
Riccardo’s voice went hollow.
“My wife.”
Sofia stared at him.
“My mother?”
“If you are Chiara.”
Antonio grabbed a kitchen towel and pressed it against a cut on his forehead.
“Isabella Marino had something Greco wanted.”
“What?”
“Documents.”
Riccardo frowned.
“What documents?”
Antonio stared at him.
“She found out who was betraying you.”
The kitchen door crashed open.
Marco fired twice.
A man fell backward.
“Back exit. Now!”
They ran into the alley.
Riccardo’s car screeched toward them.
Marco shoved Sofia inside.
Antonio followed.
Riccardo climbed in last.
The SUV accelerated.
Sofia’s hands were shaking violently.
She opened the message from Elena again.
There was an attachment beneath it.
A photograph.
Sofia tapped it.
It showed a leather Bible lying open.
Inside the hollowed center was a folded letter.
Elena’s next message appeared.
YOU WANT THE TRUTH? GO TO ST. AGNES CHURCH.
ASK FOR FATHER MATTEO.
Riccardo leaned over.
“What did she send?”
Sofia looked at him.
“She told me where the truth is.”
Antonio’s face suddenly went white.
“No.”
Riccardo noticed.
“What?”
May you like
Antonio shook his head.
“Father Matteo was supposed to be dead.”
