Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO CALLED HIM BROTHER
Santino Russo had been Lorenzo's closest friend for twenty-three years.
They met as teenagers.
Fought together.
Built businesses together.
Buried friends together.
Santino stood beside Lorenzo when his father died.
He was best man at Lorenzo's wedding.
And godfather to Isabella.
Now he stood in the courtyard with six armed men.
Lorenzo watched through the garage window.
Sophie stood beside him.
Isabella clung to his coat.
"Can we get out another way?" Sophie whispered.
Lorenzo shook his head.
"Not without crossing the driveway."
She looked toward Isabella.
"We need help."
"I know."
He took out his phone and contacted the independent attorney who'd accompanied him to New York.
Then he sent his location and the evidence he'd gathered to a trusted outside investigator.
He also contacted emergency services.
He wasn't going to turn his daughter's life into a gunfight.
Santino called.
Lorenzo answered.
"Enzo."
His friend's voice sounded almost affectionate.
"You're home early."
"Disappointed?"
Santino laughed softly.
"Surprised."
Lorenzo looked toward the courtyard.
"Where's Camila?"
"Safe."
"That's more than I can say for my daughter."
Santino sighed.
"Don't make this emotional."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"She's nine."
"Then don't force me to involve her."
Silence.
Lorenzo looked toward Sophie.
She was holding Isabella close.
He felt something shift inside him.
For years, he'd believed strength meant never showing fear.
Now he understood that fear could be useful.
It reminded you what mattered.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Santino answered immediately.
"The transfer authorization."
"You already forged my signature."
"That isn't enough."
Lorenzo frowned.
"Why?"
"Because the bank's compliance department flagged the transaction. They want a live confirmation."
Lorenzo almost laughed.
A routine security measure had delayed the theft of his empire.
Santino continued.
"You'll confirm the transfer. Then we'll discuss the rest."
"And Sophie?"
A pause.
"She knows too much."
Lorenzo looked at the woman beside him.
She met his eyes.
No panic.
No pleading.
Just determination.
"Let Isabella leave," Lorenzo said.
Santino hesitated.
"With whom?"
"Sophie."
Silence.
Then Santino laughed.
"You really have no idea who that woman is, do you?"
Lorenzo felt cold.
"What are you talking about?"
Santino's voice hardened.
"Ask her what happened the night Daniel Mercer died."
The call ended.
Lorenzo turned toward Sophie.
Her face had gone pale.
He stared.
"What happened that night?"
She swallowed.
"Enzo—"
"Tell me."
Her eyes filled.
"I was there."
The words hung between them.
Lorenzo felt his chest tighten.
"You were there when your brother died?"
May you like
She nodded.
"And I saw who killed him."
