Chapter 9 - The Marino Name
Riccardo sat alone in the SUV.
Nobody knew what to say.
His father, Don Lorenzo Marino, had been dead seventeen years.
To Chicago newspapers, Lorenzo had been a businessman.
To everyone else, he had been the reason judges changed decisions and men disappeared.
Riccardo stared through the windshield.
“My father loved Isabella.”
Father Matteo shook his head.
“He tolerated her.”
Riccardo looked at him.
“Why kill her?”
“She wanted you out.”
“Out of what?”
“Everything.”
Elena answered from the next seat.
“She wanted you to take Chiara and leave the Marino family.”
Sofia watched Riccardo.
He said nothing.
Elena continued.
“Lorenzo believed Isabella made you weak.”
Riccardo laughed once.
“She did.”
Sofia frowned.
Riccardo looked at her.
“She made me want a life that didn’t require a gun.”
For the first time, Sofia saw the man beneath everything she had heard about him.
Then he said, “I didn’t choose it.”
Elena’s face hardened.
“You chose your father.”
Riccardo nodded.
“Yes.”
No defense.
Again.
Sofia hated how much that honesty affected her.
Marco drove them toward the abandoned bank.
The neighborhood was silent.
Too silent.
Riccardo checked his weapon.
Sofia looked at him.
“I’m going inside.”
“No.”
She stared.
“You really don’t learn quickly.”
“This time I’m serious.”
“You were serious every other time.”
Elena almost smiled.
“She definitely has Isabella’s mouth.”
Riccardo looked at Sofia.
“She does.”
The words landed strangely.
They entered through an underground garage.
Marco disabled an old alarm panel.
“How do you know how to do that?” Sofia whispered.
“Bad childhood.”
Antonio followed with Father Matteo resting in the second car under guard.
The vault corridor smelled like dust.
Sofia inserted the tiny key into Box 417.
It turned.
She pulled out a metal case.
Riccardo stood beside her.
“Open it.”
Sofia hesitated.
“This was my mother’s.”
“Yes.”
“And once I open it, everything gets worse.”
“Probably.”
She looked at him.
“You’re terrible at comforting people.”
“I’ve been told.”
Sofia opened the box.
Inside were three ledgers.
A photograph.
A cassette tape.
And a sealed envelope addressed to:
RICCARDO.
His hands trembled.
“Open it,” Sofia said.
He did.
The letter was from Isabella.
Riccardo,
If you are reading this, I failed to bring you with me.
I need you to know that I never stopped loving you.
But love without courage becomes a prison.
Your father knows about Vittorio.
He knows about Greco.
He allowed it because fear keeps the family obedient.
If anything happens to me, protect our daughter from all of them.
Even from yourself.
Riccardo stopped reading.
Sofia stared at him.
He slowly handed her the letter.
The last line was underlined.
Chiara deserves a father, not a Don.
Sofia’s eyes burned.
Then applause echoed from the corridor.
Slow.
Mocking.
They turned.
Gabriel Caruso stood at the vault entrance with six armed men.
Behind him was Salvatore Greco.
And beside Greco stood an older man with a scar across his jaw.
Vittorio Marino.
Riccardo raised his gun.
Vittorio smiled.
“Still making the same mistake, little brother.”
Riccardo aimed at his chest.
“What mistake?”
Vittorio pointed toward Marco.
“Trusting the man behind you.”
May you like
Sofia turned.
Marco’s gun was aimed at Riccardo.
