Chapter 9 - One Night of FreedomTwo days before the gala, Luca Moretti was offered something no federal defendant in his position should have received.
She called Dominic first.
He arrived eight minutes later.
He took one look at the Roman numeral and swore.
“Where is Lily?”
“With Maria upstairs.”
“School?”
“Closed until further notice.”
Dominic immediately doubled security.
Agent Monroe arrived next.
She examined the envelope.
“No prints.”
“Adrian?”
“Most likely.”
“You said divers searched the lake.”
“They did.”
“Then how is he alive?”
Monroe’s expression was grim.
“The boathouse tunnel connects to drainage channels farther downshore. He could have surfaced outside the perimeter.”
Sofia’s stomach tightened.
“He waited six months.”
“That’s what concerns me.”
“Why?”
“Angry men act quickly.”
Monroe held up the photograph.
“Patient men plan.”
Luca learned that afternoon.
He called from detention.
“Put me on speaker with Monroe.”
Sofia did.
Luca’s voice came through hard and controlled.
“Move them.”
“We already arranged a safe house,” Monroe said.
“No government property.”
“You’re currently cooperating with the government.”
“And Adrian spent seven years learning how law enforcement works around me.”
“You don’t get to dictate protection protocols.”
“Then consider it advice.”
Monroe looked annoyed.
Sofia interrupted.
“Enough. Where do we go?”
Dominic answered.
“My family owns a cabin outside Galena.”
Luca immediately rejected it.
“Too obvious.”
Sofia crossed her arms.
“I know somewhere.”
Two hours later, Sofia and Lily left Chicago disguised inside a catering van.
Their destination surprised everyone.
A small farmhouse outside Madison, Wisconsin.
It had belonged to Sofia’s grandmother.
Nobody in Luca’s organization knew about it.
Not even Luca.
For four days, nothing happened.
Lily played in fields.
Sofia cooked.
Dominic rotated guards.
For several hours at a time, life felt almost normal.
Then Lily found the music box.
It was old.
Wooden.
Hidden beneath blankets in a bedroom closet.
When she opened it, the familiar melody began.
The rooftop song.
Sofia froze.
“Where did you get that?”
“Closet.”
Sofia took it.
Her grandmother had owned dozens of old things, but Sofia had never seen this.
She turned it over.
A small inscription had been scratched beneath.
M.M.
Matteo Moretti.
Her hands shook.
“Dominic!”
They pried open the false bottom.
Inside was a microSD card.
Matteo had left another message.
Video this time.
He appeared tired.
A bruise covered his jaw.
“If Sofia found this, then Adrian survived longer than I hoped.”
Dominic stared.
Matteo continued.
“Adrian isn’t only Salvatore’s soldier. He was raised by him.”
Luca later watched through secure video from detention.
Matteo explained that Adrian’s father had been a Moretti enforcer killed decades earlier.
Salvatore took Adrian in privately and shaped him into the perfect loyal operative.
Thirteen was not merely a tattoo.
It marked a group.
Thirteen men recruited by Salvatore.
Police.
Security contractors.
Accountants.
Political aides.
People placed inside institutions for years.
Adrian was Number One.
The tattoo XIII represented the organization itself.
Matteo had identified eleven members.
Two remained unknown.
Luca stared at the screen.
“If Salvatore is imprisoned…”
Dominic finished the thought.
“Adrian becomes leader.”
Monroe began arrests.
Within forty-eight hours, seven members were in custody.
Two had died.
Two disappeared.
And the unknown members remained unknown.
Sofia noticed something on Matteo’s video.
“Pause.”
They stopped it.
Behind Matteo was a calendar.
One date circled.
September 18.
“What happened September eighteenth?”
Luca thought.
“My father’s birthday.”
Sofia shook her head.
“Anything else?”
Dominic searched old records.
Then found it.
The Moretti Foundation Children’s Hospital Gala.
An annual fundraiser.
September 18.
Three weeks away.
Luca understood.
“Adrian will go there.”
“Why?”
“Because Salvatore started the foundation using money stolen from my father.”
Monroe frowned.
“So?”
“Adrian loves symbols.”
Luca leaned toward the camera.
“He sent Lily a photograph because she exposed him through the dance. He wants the end to happen publicly.”
Sofia’s stomach turned.
“We don’t go.”
“Agreed.”
But Lily overheard.
“Go where?”
Nobody answered.
She looked at her mother.
“The hospital party?”
Sofia blinked.
“How did you know?”
“Daddy told me.”
Luca frowned through the screen.
“I did not.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“In the message.”
“What message?”
Lily ran to her backpack and removed a folded invitation.
Sofia snatched it.
The official gala invitation had been altered.
On the back, written in childish purple marker:
LILY — COME DANCE WITH DADDY.
Luca’s face went white.
“Where did you get that?”
“My teacher gave it to me before we came here.”
Monroe contacted the teacher.
The teacher explained a courier delivered an envelope marked from the Moretti Foundation.
Security footage showed the courier.
Not Adrian.
A woman.
Late forties.
Dark coat.
Sofia stared at the image.
“I know her.”
“Who?”
“She worked at the mansion.”
Dominic zoomed in.
His expression collapsed.
“No.”
Luca leaned toward the screen.
“What?”
Dominic whispered the name.
“Maria.”
Silence.
Maria Russo.
Dominic’s wife.
The woman who had cared for Lily the night of the engagement party.
The woman currently coordinating security schedules from Chicago.
Dominic stood so suddenly the chair fell.
“No. She wouldn’t.”
Monroe asked, “Where is she?”
Dominic called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
He accessed the mansion cameras.
Maria’s car was gone.
Her phone was off.
Their children were staying with grandparents.
Luca’s voice became grim.
“Dominic.”
“No.”
“Listen to me.”
“My wife is not one of them.”
“I’m not saying she is.”
But Dominic already understood.
Either Maria had betrayed them—
or Adrian had taken her.
Twenty minutes later, Dominic received a video.
Maria appeared tied to a chair.
Adrian stood behind her.
He looked thinner after surviving the lake.
A scar crossed his forehead.
He smiled into the camera.
“September eighteenth.”
Maria cried silently.
Adrian placed a gun against her head.
“Bring Lily to the gala.”
Sofia stared in horror.
Adrian continued.
“And make sure Luca is there.”
Luca laughed bitterly.
“I’m in federal custody.”
Adrian’s smile widened.
“I know.”
He leaned closer to the camera.
“That’s why Number Twelve is going to let him out.”
The video ended.
Agent Monroe’s face changed.
Only a handful of people could arrange Luca’s temporary release.
Meaning one of Salvatore’s remaining infiltrators was inside the federal system.
May you like
Number Twelve.
The betrayal had reached farther than any of them imagined.
