Chapter 4 - The Accident Dominic Never Believed
I called Dominic at 2:13 in the morning.
He answered immediately.
“Alina?”
“Who killed Sofia?”
Silence.
Not confusion.
Silence.
“You spoke to Marco.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I asked you a question.”
Dominic’s voice changed.
“Where are you?”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Because I’m not discussing this while you’re standing somewhere unprotected.”
I looked through the diner window.
The old sedan was gone.
“I’m with Marco.”
“Stay there.”
“No.”
“Alina—”
“You don’t command me.”
Another pause.
Then something unexpected.
“You’re right.”
Forty minutes later, Dominic entered the diner with only one man.
Leo was not with him.
He sat opposite me.
No intimidation.
No entourage.
I placed my phone on the table and showed him the anonymous messages.
His jaw tightened.
“I buried no report.”
“So there was a report.”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Dominic looked at Marco.
Then back at me.
“Sofia’s car should not have failed.”
My stomach tightened.
He explained.
Six months earlier, Sofia left their home after receiving a call.
She refused security.
Told Dominic she was meeting someone privately.
Forty-three minutes later, her car left the road north of the city.
Police called it mechanical failure.
Dominic’s private investigators disagreed.
A component in the braking system appeared to have been tampered with.
“Why wasn’t that public?”
“Because I didn’t know who I could trust.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It was terrifying.”
That answer stopped me.
Dominic looked toward the dark window.
“I run a family people fear.”
He said it without pride.
“I learned early that fear attracts loyalty until the day money buys more.”
He suspected someone inside his own organization.
So he kept the second report private and investigated quietly.
“Did you find whoever did it?”
“No.”
“Did Sofia know she was in danger?”
“Yes.”
My breath caught.
“How?”
Dominic removed a folded paper from his wallet.
It had been opened so many times the creases were nearly worn through.
“I found this after the funeral.”
Sofia’s handwriting.
Dominic,
If I’m wrong, burn this and call me paranoid.
If I’m right, Leo’s safest chance is for you to stop trying to control every answer.
There is someone I need to find before I tell you why.
A.
A.
Alessia.
Me.
Dominic continued.
“She had been visiting Aurelia.”
“How many times?”
“At least four.”
I looked at Marco.
He looked shocked.
“Sofia came here?”
“She sat in the back section under another name.”
Then Dominic showed us restaurant security stills.
Sofia.
Watching me.
Once while I carried wine.
Once while I laughed with another waitress.
Once while I stood outside beneath the awning during rain.
The last photograph showed her crying.
She had been close enough to speak.
She never did.
“Why?”
I whispered.
Dominic looked wounded.
“I’ve asked myself that every day.”
Then he opened another file on his phone.
Sofia’s laptop had been encrypted.
Two weeks earlier, his people finally recovered part of it.
One note was dated three days before her death.
I FOUND HER.
HER NAME IS ALINA VALDEZ.
SHE HAS ROSA’S MEDALLION.
DO NOT APPROACH YET.
UNCLE C KNOWS SOMEONE IS LOOKING.
My pulse stopped.
“Uncle C?”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Carlo Bellini.”
Sofia’s uncle.
One of the most respected men in her family.
Then Dominic swiped to another recovered file.
A scanned government record.
Certificate of Death.
Name:
Alessia Elena Bellini.
Date of death:
August 20, 1999.
But the certificate had not been created in 1999.
May you like
Metadata showed it was filed twenty-seven years later.
Two days before Sofia’s crash.
