Chapter 5 - The House Without Guards
Matteo's grandmother's house had three bedrooms, floral wallpaper, one bathroom, and a refrigerator covered in magnets from places nobody in the Vitale organization had ever visited.
Nico loved it immediately.
“There's no gate!”
Lorenzo looked out the window.
“I noticed.”
“And no guards.”
“There are guards.”
Sofia looked outside.
“Where?”
“Across the street.”
She spotted a man pretending to read a newspaper at two in the morning.
“Subtle.”
“He's good at shooting.”
“That was not my concern.”
Nico ran into the kitchen.
“Can we make pancakes?”
Lorenzo frowned.
“It's three in the morning.”
Sofia opened the refrigerator.
“There are eggs.”
“You're encouraging him.”
“Yes.”
Twenty minutes later, Lorenzo Vitale sat at a small kitchen table while his son ate pancakes shaped like dinosaurs.
Sofia poured coffee.
“You're terrible at this.”
Lorenzo looked at the pan.
“They're pancakes.”
“They're charcoal.”
Nico pointed.
“That one looks like Matteo.”
Matteo stared at the burned pancake.
“I've been insulted in many ways. This is new.”
For a few minutes, the world felt normal.
Then Matteo's encrypted phone vibrated.
He stepped outside.
Lorenzo watched him through the window.
Sofia sat across from Lorenzo.
“You still don't trust him.”
“I trust no one completely.”
“You trusted Bianca.”
His eyes moved to hers.
“Yes.”
“You blame yourself.”
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Analyze me.”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
Sofia leaned back.
“Fine.”
Silence.
Then Lorenzo asked, “Why aren't you more afraid?”
“I am.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep confusing fear with obedience.”
He almost smiled.
“You have a very comfortable relationship with danger.”
“My father was a paramedic in the Bronx. My mother raised four kids. I taught twenty-two preschoolers finger painting.”
She drank her coffee.
“You're maybe fourth on my list.”
Lorenzo laughed.
A quiet, surprised sound.
Sofia stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, do it again.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You laughed.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Nico shouted from the living room.
“Daddy laughed!”
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
“Traitor.”
Then Matteo returned.
The humor disappeared.
“Dane called.”
Lorenzo stood.
“How?”
“He contacted one of our men.”
“What did he want?”
“To meet.”
“Where?”
“Old Saint Michael's Church. Four tomorrow afternoon.”
Sofia frowned.
“That's obviously a trap.”
Matteo nodded.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo said, “I'll go.”
Sofia stared at him.
“You just agreed it's a trap.”
“I know.”
“Then don't go.”
“Dane wants me.”
“He wants Nico.”
“He wants control.”
“And you walking into a trap gives him both.”
Lorenzo looked at Matteo.
“Get the car ready.”
Sofia stepped in front of him.
“No.”
The room went silent.
Lorenzo's voice lowered.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Sofia.”
“Nico heard you promise.”
His jaw tightened.
“You said when you leave, you come back.”
“I will.”
“You don't know that.”
“I've survived worse.”
“And Bianca didn't.”
The words came out too fast.
Sofia immediately regretted them.
Lorenzo's face went completely still.
Matteo looked away.
Sofia swallowed.
“I'm sorry.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
Then Nico walked into the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
Lorenzo turned.
Nico had heard enough.
“Nowhere yet.”
“You're leaving?”
“Nico—”
“Bad men?”
Lorenzo crouched.
“Yes.”
Nico's lower lip trembled.
“You promised.”
“I remember.”
“Then don't go.”
Lorenzo looked at his son.
For most of his adult life, people had obeyed him because they feared what happened if they didn't.
His five-year-old son was asking for something completely different.
Presence.
“Okay.”
Matteo stared at him.
“Boss?”
Lorenzo stood.
“We don't go to Dane.”
Sofia exhaled.
Matteo lowered his voice.
“Then what?”
“We make him come to us.”
“How?”
Lorenzo looked at Sofia.
“By doing something he'd never expect.”
Sofia raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
Lorenzo looked around the tiny kitchen.
“We disappear.”
Matteo frowned.
“We already did.”
“No. We make the entire organization believe Nico and I left the country.”
“And then?”
“Dane moves.”
Sofia understood.
“He'll stop hiding because he'll think you've run.”
Lorenzo nodded.
Matteo smiled slowly.
“Then we follow him.”
For the next twelve hours, Lorenzo's organization performed the most elaborate lie it had ever created.
A private jet left Logan Airport with Lorenzo's name on the manifest.
Two armored SUVs drove publicly toward the terminal.
Rumors spread that Lorenzo had taken Nico to Italy.
By sunset, the story reached every family in Boston.
At 8:12 p.m., Matteo's phone rang.
He listened.
Then smiled.
“Dane moved.”
“Where?”
“Vitale Shipping warehouse fourteen.”
Lorenzo stood.
Sofia grabbed his sleeve.
“You're going.”
“Yes.”
“And coming back.”
“Yes.”
She held his gaze.
“That's not a mafia promise.”
He understood.
Lorenzo placed his hand over hers.
“No.”
He looked toward Nico sleeping on the sofa.
May you like
“It's a father's promise.”
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