Chapter 3 - The Woman They Took
St. Agnes Church sat in an abandoned neighborhood on the south side of Chicago, surrounded by boarded-up storefronts and streets that had forgotten what morning traffic sounded like.
Once, it had been beautiful.
Now, its stone saints were cracked, its stained-glass windows were broken, and its bell tower leaned slightly to one side like an old man refusing to fall.
It was the kind of place where people went when they did not want to be seen.
At 5:43 in the morning, I stood across the street in the back of an unmarked SUV, watching snow collect on the church steps.
My men wanted to storm the building.
I refused.
Elena was inside.
If she was still alive, I would not gamble with her life to satisfy my anger.
“Any visual?” I asked.
Marco, my new acting security chief, adjusted the surveillance feed. “Two armed men at the north entrance. One on the upper balcony. Thermal scan shows at least four people inside.”
“And Elena?”
He hesitated.
“There’s one heat signature near the altar. Seated. Alive.”
My chest tightened.
“Dominic?”
“No clear read.”
I looked down at the old ledger in my hands.
It had belonged to my father. For years, it had remained sealed inside a safe in the lower level of the estate, protected by codes even my closest men did not know. It contained the original records of the DeLuca organization—old alliances, secret payments, family debts, and the names of people who had crossed my father.
The ledger was not merely evidence.
It was leverage.
And apparently, six years ago, Sofia had found a copy.
“What’s the plan?” Marco asked.
I opened the SUV door.
“The plan is that Elena comes home.”
I crossed the street alone.
The church door opened before I reached it.
A man I recognized from years ago stood in the entrance.
Victor Cavanaugh.
He was not the head of the Cavanaugh family. That position belonged to his older sister, Bianca, a woman I had never met but had heard enough about to know she was more dangerous than most men in our world.
Victor smiled as if he were welcoming me to dinner.
“Matteo DeLuca,” he said. “You finally came.”
“Where is she?”
“Straight to business. Sofia would have appreciated that.”
At the sound of my sister’s name, every muscle in my body tightened.
“Show me Elena.”
He stepped aside.
Inside, the church was colder than outside. Snow had blown through the shattered windows and settled in thin white patches across the floor. Candles burned near the altar, casting trembling light over the pews.
Elena sat in a wooden chair near the front.
Her hands were tied, but she appeared conscious. Her hair was tangled, and there was a bruise near her temple. When she saw me, her eyes filled with relief so quickly that I nearly lost my control.
“Mr. DeLuca,” she whispered.
“I’m here.”
Victor moved between us.
“The ledger.”
“You release her first.”
He laughed. “You know better.”
“I know you would not have brought me here if you planned to kill her immediately.”
His smile faded slightly.
“You really are your father’s son.”
“No,” I said. “That is where you are wrong.”
I placed the ledger on the floor between us.
“Tell me what happened to Sofia.”
Victor looked toward the altar.
“Your sister was never supposed to die.”
The words struck harder than I expected.
“What?”
“She found out about Dominic. About the judges he was paying. About the money he was moving through both families. She thought she could bring the information to you.”
My vision blurred with rage.
“Dominic worked with you?”
“Dominic worked for himself,” Victor said. “He fed your father’s enemies just enough information to stay useful. Then he sold us the rest.”
“Why kill Sofia?”
“Because she copied the ledger pages and refused to give them back.”
Elena made a small sound from her chair.
Victor continued, “Dominic arranged the car bomb. But he did not expect you to be nearby. You arrived too soon. Sofia was still alive when he reached her.”
I could not breathe.
For six years, I had imagined Sofia dying alone in that car.
But she had been alive.
Dominic had reached her first.
“What did he do?” My voice barely sounded human.
Victor watched me with careful eyes.
“He took the pages from her coat. Then he walked away before the fire spread.”
The church went silent except for Elena’s breathing.
“You’re lying,” I said.
“Am I?”
I thought of Dominic’s words in my office.
You were always too emotional when it came to Sofia.
I thought of the paramedic.
She was breathing when we got there.
My hand curled into a fist.
Victor bent down and picked up the ledger.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen and smiled.
“Speak of the devil,” he said.
He answered on speaker.
Dominic’s voice came through.
“Is Matteo there?”
Victor looked at me. “He is.”
“Good. Tell him Elena is not the only woman in danger.”
My blood turned to ice.
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
Dominic laughed softly.
“Ask him about the hospital on Lake Shore Drive. Ask him who survived the fire.”
The call ended.
For one second, no one moved.
Then Elena looked at me, her face pale.
“Mr. DeLuca,” she whispered, “what does that mean?”
I stared at the broken stained-glass window behind her.
Six years ago, Sofia had died.
That was what everyone believed.
But if Dominic was telling the truth, then someone had survived that night.
Someone who had been hidden from me.
Someone who might know exactly who betrayed my family.
I raised my eyes to Victor.
“You want the ledger?” I said.
He nodded.
“You can have it.”
May you like
Then I smiled for the first time that morning.
“But you should have checked whether it was real.”
