Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN RED
Her name was Sofia Bellandi.
Elena Moretti’s older sister.
And until three seconds earlier, Rico would have trusted her with Leo’s life.
Sofia stood near the entrance with one gloved hand still wrapped around the brass door handle.
“Rico.”
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You’re frightening everyone.”
Rico looked toward Dante.
“Take Leo upstairs.”
Il Destino had private rooms on the second floor.
Leo immediately grabbed Clara’s apron.
“No.”
Dante reached for him.
Leo screamed again.
Clara shook her head.
“Don’t.”
Rico looked at her.
“He cannot stay here.”
“He also thinks everybody who pulls him away is dangerous.”
Rico’s jaw flexed.
Clara crouched.
“Leo.”
The boy buried his face against her shoulder.
“You want to go somewhere quiet?”
No answer.
Clara pointed toward the staircase.
“I’ll come.”
His grip loosened slightly.
Rico stared at them.
Sofia said:
“You’re letting a stranger walk away with him?”
Rico turned his head.
The look he gave her silenced the room.
“She’s not the person he’s afraid of.”
Sofia went pale.
Dante took Leo upstairs with Clara beside him.
Rico remained below.
Before Clara reached the stairs, he called:
“Clara.”
She turned.
“If he says anything else…”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Every word.”
She nodded.
Then disappeared upstairs.
Rico looked at Sofia.
“Sit.”
She laughed once.
“Rico, this is absurd.”
“Sit.”
Something in his voice made even Sofia obey.
She crossed to the table.
Her red coat remained buttoned.
Rico did not sit opposite her.
He remained standing.
“Why did Leo scream when he saw you?”
“He’s three.”
“He said Mama fire.”
Sofia’s face changed for less than a second.
Rico saw it.
“He says many things.”
“He barely says anything.”
“I know.”
“Then why tonight?”
She removed her gloves slowly.
“Maybe because this evening has been traumatic.”
Rico leaned forward.
“Don’t insult me.”
“I’m not.”
“You walked in. My son saw you and lost his mind.”
“Children associate people with grief.”
“How would he associate you with Elena’s death?”
Sofia stared.
“I’m her sister.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
The restaurant was still locked.
Guests had been quietly escorted into the side lounge.
Employees remained near the kitchen.
Nobody was allowed to leave.
Marco looked as if he might faint.
Rico turned toward Dante’s second-in-command.
“Vincent.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Pull exterior cameras.”
“For tonight?”
“Six months ago.”
Vincent paused.
Rico’s eyes shifted to Sofia.
“Every camera within four blocks of the place Elena died.”
Sofia stood.
“This is insane.”
Rico moved so fast the table barely seemed to exist between them.
He did not touch her.
He didn’t need to.
“You will sit down.”
Sofia stared at him.
“You think I killed my own sister?”
Rico’s voice was quiet.
“I think my son believes you were connected to the worst night of his life.”
Her eyes filled.
“Leo was barely conscious.”
Rico went still.
Dante had never told anyone outside the inner circle exactly what state Leo had been found in.
Rico’s voice dropped.
“How do you know that?”
Sofia stopped.
“I visited the hospital.”
“Hours later.”
“I was told.”
“By who?”
“Doctors.”
“No doctor discussed Leo with you before I arrived.”
She looked away.
Rico felt something terrible begin assembling itself.
Piece by piece.
He remembered Elena’s funeral.
Sofia holding Leo.
Sofia telling Rico the child should stay with family for a few weeks.
Sofia pushing for therapy.
Sofia recommending a specific child psychologist.
Sofia urging Rico not to question Leo too much because it could “implant memories.”
At the time, everything sounded reasonable.
Kind.
Protective.
Now every sentence looked different.
“What did you know that night?”
Sofia’s composure cracked.
“Nothing.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I knew Elena was dead.”
“Before the hospital called you?”
Silence.
Rico stepped closer.
“Before I called you?”
Sofia stared.
Then whispered:
“You were unreachable.”
“So?”
“The family heard.”
“What family?”
No answer.
Rico laughed without humor.
“Whose phone rang first, Sofia?”
She looked at him.
“You’re grieving.”
“My wife has been dead six months.”
“And you’ve needed someone to blame every day since.”
“I blamed the Romano crew.”
“Because they did it.”
“That’s what you told me.”
Her face tightened.
Rico’s heart began pounding.
“You were the one who said Elena had been followed by a Romano vehicle.”
“The police thought the same.”
“Because a witness reported it.”
Sofia said nothing.
Rico stared.
“You found the witness.”
“I helped.”
“You found the license plate.”
“I passed information.”
“You pushed me toward the Romanos.”
Her voice rose.
“Because they had threatened you!”
“Many people have threatened me.”
“You were at war.”
“No.”
Rico’s voice became colder.
“I became at war after Elena died.”
Sofia stopped speaking.
That was true.
The Moretti-Romano bloodshed that followed Elena’s murder had killed nine men in six months.
Rico had believed revenge was justice.
What if it had been direction?
Someone wanted him looking one way.
Clara had just pointed another.
Upstairs, Leo sat on a leather couch clutching a throw pillow.
Clara sat on the carpet six feet away.
Dante remained near the door.
The boy had finally stopped crying.
Clara didn’t ask questions.
Not directly.
She built three little towers from sugar packets she found on the coffee tray.
Leo watched.
Then moved closer.
He knocked one over.
Clara rebuilt it.
He knocked it over again.
Dante watched, confused.
“He likes you.”
Clara shrugged.
“He likes being left alone.”
“He bit me.”
“He told you no first.”
Dante frowned.
Clara looked at him.
“You’re twice the size of the refrigerator downstairs.”
“Three times.”
“That’s not helping your case.”
For a moment, Dante almost smiled.
Leo picked up a red sugar packet.
His face changed.
Clara noticed.
“Don’t like red?”
He shook his head.
She moved it away.
“Okay.”
Leo whispered:
“Red car.”
Clara’s stomach tightened.
She did not lean forward.
“What about the red car?”
Dante became alert.
Leo made a little gesture with his fingers.
“Light.”
“Lights?”
He nodded.
“Red lady.”
Clara waited.
Leo touched his nose.
“Smell bad.”
Gasoline.
Clara’s pulse quickened.
“What did Mama do?”
Leo’s eyes filled.
“Sleep.”
Dante looked away.
Clara’s voice softened.
“And you?”
Leo touched his forehead.
“Boom.”
He had been injured.
Clara knew from the news that Leo survived with a concussion and cuts.
She kept her voice steady.
“Who took you out?”
The boy’s breathing changed.
Clara immediately stopped.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Leo crawled into her lap.
She froze.
Then slowly put one arm around him.
His head rested against her chest.
After a minute, he whispered:
“Uncle.”
Dante’s head snapped toward him.
“Uncle who?”
Clara shot Dante a look.
“Don’t.”
Leo buried his face again.
Clara waited.
Then he whispered:
“Uncle Nicky.”
Dante went white.
Clara looked at him.
“Who’s Nicky?”
Dante’s answer came slowly.
“Nico Bellandi.”
“Sofia’s husband?”
Dante shook his head.
“Brother.”
Sofia and Elena’s younger brother.
Rico’s brother-in-law.
And one of the men Rico had personally appointed to oversee family logistics after Elena’s death.
Clara felt suddenly cold.
Downstairs, Vincent returned carrying a tablet.
“Boss.”
Rico turned.
“What?”
“We found something.”
Sofia stood.
Vincent looked at her.
Then at Rico.
“Traffic camera two blocks south.”
He placed the tablet on the table.
Blurry nighttime footage.
Elena’s black SUV entered the intersection at 9:14 p.m.
Thirty seconds later, another vehicle followed.
Not Romano.
Red.
Rico leaned closer.
“Plate?”
“Partial.”
Vincent enlarged it.
New York plate.
Last four characters:
7KJ2.
Rico looked at Sofia’s red coat.
Then back at the screen.
“Run it.”
Vincent already had.
His face was grim.
“Registered six months ago to Bellandi Imports.”
Sofia stepped backward.
Rico stared at her.
“Your company.”
She whispered:
“Many people drive company vehicles.”
“Who had it that night?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent answered:
“Nico.”
Silence.
Rico’s face changed.
“Sofia.”
She started crying.
“Rico.”
“Where is your brother?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
Rico’s voice became nearly calm.
“Where is Nico?”
Sofia shook her head.
Then her phone rang.
Everyone looked at it.
She didn’t move.
Rico held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Give me the phone.”
She gripped her purse.
Rico nodded once.
Vincent stepped forward.
Sofia broke.
“Stop!”
The phone continued ringing.
Rico stared.
“Who is it?”
Tears ran down her face.
“Nico.”
Rico took the phone.
He answered.
Said nothing.
A man’s voice spoke first.
“Sofia?”
Rico’s eyes became ice.
Nico continued:
“Did Moretti find the girl?”
Rico looked toward the staircase.
Clara.
He finally spoke.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then the call disconnected.
Rico stared at the dark screen.
It wasn’t Elena’s killer who had just revealed himself.
May you like
It was someone who knew Clara had survived.
And that meant Clara had been hunted for six months without ever realizing exactly who was hunting her.
