Chapter 6 - The Black Ledger
Dante knew. Sophia stared at the note wrapped around the rosary, a massive wave of relief washing over her, immediately followed by terror. Dante was playing a lethal game of chess, pretending to push her away to keep her safe while he worked from the inside. But Vanessa was accelerating her timeline. If Elena was moved to a "facility," she would disappear forever. Sophia waited until nightfall. The Moretti mansion was hosting Vanessa’s lavish engagement rehearsal dinner. The property would be swarming with caterers, guests, and security. It was the perfect cover. Dressed in black jeans and a dark hoodie, Sophia slipped through the servant’s entrance at the back of the estate. She knew the blind spots in the security cameras—Enzo himself had arrogantly bragged about them to a guard weeks ago. She crept up the back staircase, avoiding the thumping bass of the string quartet playing in the grand ballroom below. Elena’s bedroom was at the end of the east wing. Sophia slipped inside and locked the door. The room was dark, smelling faintly of lavender and old paper. Elena wasn’t there; she was likely forced to attend the dinner downstairs to maintain appearances. Sophia went straight for the massive, four-poster bed. She stripped the heavy duvet and lifted the mattress. Nothing. She searched the pillows, the bedframe, the box spring. Empty. Panic began to set in. Dante’s note had been specific. Hidden in my mother’s mattress. Sophia paused, closing her eyes. She thought about Elena. The proud, stubborn Sicilian woman. Elena wouldn't trust a physical mattress. Sophia opened her eyes and looked across the room at the antique, hand-carved wooden kneeler Elena used for her prayers. The cushion on the kneeler was essentially a tiny, personal mattress. Sophia rushed over, pulling a small penknife from her pocket. She sliced the seam of the velvet cushion. Her fingers brushed against stiff leather. She pulled out a small, black ledger. She flipped it open. It wasn't financial accounts. It was a meticulous, handwritten log of dates, times, and payouts. Elena had been tracking Enzo’s secret meetings with the Genovese family for two years. “Looking for some light reading, waitress?” Sophia spun around. Vanessa stood in the doorway, dressed in a stunning silver gown, holding a silenced pistol aimed directly at Sophia’s chest. Vanessa stepped inside and casually locked the bedroom door behind her. “I have to admit, you’re persistent,” Vanessa sighed, examining her manicured nails before pointing the gun back at Sophia. “But you’re also incredibly stupid.” “Dante knows,” Sophia said bravely, clutching the ledger. “He knows Enzo killed his father. He knows you orchestrated it.” “Oh, honey, I know Dante knows,” Vanessa laughed cruelly. “That’s why I forced this engagement. As long as I have the original contract proving your father embezzled from the Morettis, Dante will do whatever I say to keep his precious family name out of federal court.” Vanessa reached into her silver clutch with her free hand and pulled out a folded, yellowed document. “This is the real debt, Sophia,” Vanessa smiled. “I bought it back from Dante. I own your father. I own you. Now, put the ledger on the bed.” Sophia hesitated. “Put it down,” Vanessa snapped, cocking the pistol. “Or I make a phone call, and Enzo pays your father another visit at that pathetic little clinic.” Sophia slowly placed the black ledger on the bed. “Good girl,” Vanessa said. “Now, you’re going to go downstairs to the kitchen. You’re going to take this vial of liquid, and you’re going to put it in Elena’s nightly pastina.” Vanessa tossed a small glass vial onto the bed next to the ledger. “It won’t kill her,” Vanessa said coldly. “It will just cause a massive, irreversible stroke. She’ll be declared legally incompetent by morning. I get power of attorney, and I get the Moretti empire.” “I won’t do it,” Sophia whispered in horror. “You will,” a new voice said. The bathroom door opened. Elena Moretti walked out. Except she wasn’t in her wheelchair. She was standing perfectly upright, her eyes burning with an intense, furious fire. And in her hand, she held a thick stack of cassette tapes.
