CHAPTER 7 None of This Was an Accident #2
A tiny memory returned.
Holding the bedroom dresser because the room had tilted slightly.
She had blamed the alcohol.
“No.”
Dante saw her face.
“Sofia.”
“I don’t know.”
“Did someone drug you?”
Her entire body went cold.
“No.”
“We need to consider it.”
“No.”
She stepped backward.
“No.”
Dante immediately softened his tone.
“I’m not saying they made you—”
“Stop.”
“Sofia.”
“Stop.”
Her breathing became shallow.
That night had mattered.
It was Matteo’s beginning.
Their one memory she had protected from everything ugly.
She could not let the Circle have that too.
Dante saw panic rising.
He stepped closer but did not touch her.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Whatever happened,” he said quietly, “you said yes.”
Tears burned her eyes.
“Yes.”
“I asked you more than once.”
“Yes.”
“You remember that?”
“Yes.”
“Clearly?”
“Yes.”
“And I would have stopped.”
“I know.”
His voice lowered.
“Then no file changes that.”
Sofia closed her eyes.
He was right.
Even if someone had manipulated circumstances, the choice itself had still been theirs.
She breathed.
Slowly.
Then opened her eyes.
“I hate them.”
“So do I.”
“I mean really hate them.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Now you understand me.”
She laughed once through the fear.
Then noticed the recorder.
“Play it.”
Dante looked at the device.
“I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
He pressed play.
Static.
Then a male voice.
Gabriel Vescari.
Sofia recognized it.
Older.
Calm.
“Observation cycle seventeen.”
Another voice.
Carlo Bellini.
Her father.
“Dante is resisting every candidate.”
Vescari laughed softly.
“He will not resist Sofia.”
Sofia’s blood chilled.
Carlo answered, “She may resist him.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Resistance produces fixation in men like Moretti.”
Dante’s expression darkened.
The recording continued.
Carlo sounded uncomfortable.
“She’s my daughter.”
“And therefore useful.”
Sofia closed her eyes.
Dante looked at her.
She shook her head.
Keep playing.
Vescari continued.
“The goal is not merely marriage.”
“What is it?”
“Attachment.”
Silence.
“A Moretti without attachment cannot be controlled.”
“And with it?”
“Predictable.”
Dante stared at the recorder.
Carlo asked, “What about Sofia?”
Vescari answered without hesitation.
“She only needs to survive long enough to produce the firstborn.”
Sofia stopped breathing.
Dante switched off the recorder.
The silence became enormous.
“No.”
She whispered.
Dante’s face was terrifying.
“He knew.”
“My father knew.”
Dante said nothing.
“He knew they planned to kill me.”
“Yes.”
“And he still…”
Her voice broke.
Dante caught her before her knees failed.
Sofia grabbed his shirt.
“I defended him.”
“I know.”
“I told you he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I know.”
“He sold me.”
Dante held her.
This time there was no hesitation.
One arm around her back.
One hand against her hair.
Sofia pressed her face into his chest.
For a moment, she allowed herself to break.
Not quietly.
Not elegantly.
Three years of fear came out in ugly, shaking breaths.
Dante said nothing.
He simply held her.
Eventually, she whispered, “Why?”
Dante looked down.
“Power.”
“That is not enough.”
“For some people, it is.”
“He was my father.”
“I know.”
“I loved him.”
“I know.”
She looked up.
Dante wiped tears from her face.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology was quiet.
Real.
Sofia closed her eyes.
Then another recording began automatically.
Neither had touched the device.
A new voice.
Mercer.
Recent.
“Emotional destabilization confirmed.”
Dante immediately raised his gun.
The speaker was hidden somewhere in the room.
Mercer continued.
“Excellent.”
Sofia stepped away from Dante.
“They’re listening.”
“Yes.”
A screen turned on across the wall.
Matteo appeared.
Sofia’s heart stopped.
Live video.
He sat upstairs with Luca.
Safe.
For the moment.
“Mama?”
His voice came through the screen.
Sofia ran toward it.
“Matteo!”
The image froze.
Then disappeared.
Mercer spoke.
“You see the problem, Dante.”
Dante’s voice became ice.
“Touch him and I will erase every person you have ever known.”
Mercer laughed.
“You still believe violence is freedom.”
“It has advantages.”
“You were raised exactly as expected.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
Mercer continued.
“Your father shaped your aggression.”
“My father is dead.”
“Because we allowed it.”
Silence.
Dante went still.
Sofia looked at him.
“What?”
Mercer continued.
“Antonio Moretti became inconvenient.”
Dante’s face emptied.
“Did you kill my father?”
“Indirectly.”
Sofia saw something dangerous shift inside him.
Mercer continued.
“Your brother too.”
Dante stopped breathing.
Marco.
Sofia looked at him.
His hand tightened around the gun.
“You killed Marco.”
“No.”
Mercer’s voice almost sounded amused.
“We created the conditions.”
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
Dante moved toward the speaker.
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
“Coward.”
“Predictable.”
Dante fired into the wall.
The speaker exploded.
Silence.
Sofia touched his arm.
“Dante.”
He pulled away.
Not violently.
But enough.
“I need air.”
“You cannot go upstairs alone.”
“I’m not.”
He walked toward the door.
Sofia followed.
When they reached the main room, Luca was waiting.
Matteo sat beside him eating crackers.
Safe.
Sofia nearly collapsed with relief.
She lifted him immediately.
“My baby.”
Matteo frowned.
“Mama sad?”
“No.”
He touched her cheek.
“Cry.”
“I’m okay.”
Dante stood across the room.
Looking at them.
But somewhere else entirely.
Luca noticed.
“What happened?”
Dante’s answer came flat.
“They claim responsibility for Marco.”
Luca went still.
“What?”
“And my father.”
Silence.
Sofia looked between them.
Luca’s face changed.
“No.”
Dante nodded.
The room became heavy with old grief.
Then Luca looked toward the bunker.
“What else?”
Sofia answered.
“They planned our meetings.”
Luca frowned.
“What?”