Chapter 3 - THE TRUTH BENEATH THE WATER
When Vincent and the enforcers dragged Marcus out of the penthouse, the heavy door clicked shut, restoring a fragile, sacred quiet to the room.
I set my paper cup down on the table, my hands resting in my lap. I could feel the residual hum of adrenaline slowly fading from my veins, replaced by the heavy, echoing weight of memories I had tried for three years to bury.
Luca walked back over, pulling out a chair and sitting directly across from me. The terrifying mob boss was gone; in his place sat a man who had been stripped of his armor, staring at the person who held the most precious piece of his soul.
"You never told anyone," Luca said softly, his dark eyes searching my face. "Even when the newspapers ran stories for months about the mysterious disappearance of the rescue driver."
"I tried," I replied, looking down at my hands. "I went to the central precinct three days after the crash. The desk sergeant told me my statement was redundant because the official report already concluded it was a tragic accident caused by slick roads and sudden brake failure. When I mentioned seeing the jagged metal around the steering column, a man in a gray suit stepped out of an office, took my ID, and told me that repeating those claims publicly would make me a very lonely person."
Luca closed his eyes, inhaling a slow, ragged breath as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Marcus had his fingers in every municipal department from City Hall to the local precinct. He built an invisible cage around my life so I would never look too closely at how my wife’s car went off that bridge."
"She was in the car with Sophia?" I asked gently.
Luca nodded, his throat tightening. "Elena. My wife. She died on impact when the passenger side struck the concrete pillar before the vehicle plunged into the current. The police told me she lost control. But it wasn't an accident. It was an assassination attempt meant for me—or for both of us—disguised as a storm-related tragedy. Sophia was just collateral damage they didn't expect to survive."
I reached across the table, my fingers lightly touching the back of his hand. The skin was warm, calloused, and trembling slightly.
"She survived because she knew you were waiting for her," I said softly. "Every time I had to keep her head above the dark water while we waited in that submerged pocket of air, she kept repeating one sentence over and over again."
Luca looked up quickly, his chest rising. "What did she say?"
“My daddy is coming,” I whispered, reciting the words that had echoed through my nightmares for three years. “My daddy promised he would always find me, no matter how dark it gets.”
A single tear broke free from Luca’s eye, cutting a clean path down his stubbled cheek before he quickly wiped it away with the back of his thumb. He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with mine, holding onto me as if letting go would mean sinking into the river all over again.
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"You kept her alive," Luca murmured, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion. "And you carried the burden of our silence for three years while working three different catering jobs just to survive in this city."
"I survived," I said with a faint, reassuring smile. "And tonight, your daughter stood up and walked across a room full of strangers just to find me. That's all the validation I ever needed."
