Chapter 6
The warehouse fell into darkness.
My mother grabbed my arm.
Mateo shoved us behind a stack of wooden crates.
“Down,” he whispered.
I heard Marisol move somewhere to my left.
Aunt Valentina did not move at all.
Her voice cut through the dark.
“Carmen, if you wanted us dead, you would not be talking.”
Carmen laughed through the phone speaker.
“I don’t want all of you dead.”
My skin went cold.
“I want Sofia alive long enough to understand what her father cost me.”
A red emergency light flickered on near the exit.
Not enough to see clearly.
Enough to see shadows.
Mateo pulled out his phone and texted fast.
“Signal jammer,” he muttered. “Message won’t send.”
A metal door slammed somewhere inside the warehouse.
My mother flinched.
I heard footsteps.
More than one person.
Aunt Valentina finally stepped back toward us.
“Everyone to the side office.”
We moved low and fast.
Pain tore through my ribs with every step.
I bit my lip to stay quiet.
The side office had glass walls, old blinds, and a desk covered in dust.
Mateo pushed us inside and locked the door.
Marisol checked the window.
“Two men near the south entrance.”
Paul D’Amico whispered, “I know them. Russo cousins. They were at the hotel.”
My stomach turned.
The same men who held me down.
The same hands.
Mateo’s jaw tightened.
Aunt Valentina put the phone on the desk.
Carmen was still there.
“You found Antonio’s file, didn’t you?”
My mother lunged toward the phone.
“You killed him.”
Carmen sighed.
“Elena, grief made you dramatic.”
“You poisoned my husband.”
“No. I corrected a betrayal.”
I had to grip the desk to stay upright.
My father’s death had become a business decision in her mouth.
A correction.
A line item.
Carmen continued, “Antonio promised loyalty. Then he hid the trust in Sofia’s name and made Valentina his little insurance policy.”
Aunt Valentina smiled coldly.
“And it worked.”
“For two years,” Carmen said. “Then your niece walked into my son’s arms like a lamb.”
My stomach twisted.
Daniel.
His gentle texts.
His late-night calls.
The proposal in Central Park.
Had any of it been real?
Carmen answered without being asked.
“Daniel did not even want her at first. He said she was too quiet. Too sad. But I told him sad girls cling hard when you make them feel chosen.”
My mother made a wounded sound.
I could not cry.
Something inside me had frozen past tears.
I took the phone.
My hand shook, but my voice did not.
“You should have taught your son better acting.”
Silence.
Then Carmen said, “There she is.”
“You wanted me scared.”
“I wanted you obedient.”
“You failed.”
She laughed softly.
“You are standing in a dark warehouse with broken ribs, surrounded by my men, holding evidence you cannot carry out. I have not failed yet.”
A crash hit the office door.
My mother screamed.
Mateo braced his shoulder against it.
Another hit.
The glass wall shuddered.
Marisol grabbed a metal letter opener from the desk.
Aunt Valentina opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a gun.
I stared at her.
She shrugged.
“Brooklyn.”
The third hit cracked the doorframe.
Then sirens sounded outside.
Real ones.
Loud.
Close.
Carmen went silent.
Mateo looked at his phone.
“My message sent.”
The door hit again, then stopped.
Footsteps ran.
Detective Grant’s voice boomed through a speaker outside.
“NYPD. Hands where we can see them.”
For one wild second, I thought it was over.
Then Carmen whispered through the phone, “Ask Detective Grant who paid for his lake house.”
The office went silent.
Marisol looked at the phone.
Then at the warehouse entrance.
Detective Grant entered with six officers.
One of the Russo cousins was already on the floor in cuffs.
The other had vanished.
Grant came straight toward the office.
“Is everyone okay?”
Aunt Valentina raised the gun, pointed at the floor.
“Close enough.”
Grant saw the files on the table.
His eyes flicked too fast.
Marisol saw it.
So did I.
She stepped in front of the folders.
“Detective, this warehouse is now tied to an assault, an attempted coercion, and the suspected homicide of Antonio Reyes. We need evidence technicians and a supervisor on site.”
Grant’s mouth tightened.
“Counselor, I know how to run a scene.”
Carmen laughed through the phone.
Everyone heard it.
Grant’s face changed.
I looked at him.
“Did she pay for your lake house?”
His jaw hardened.
“You’ve had a long night, Mrs. Russo.”
“Reyes,” I said.
He paused.
“What?”
“My name is Sofia Reyes.”
My mother stood beside me.
Aunt Valentina too.
Mateo behind us.
For the first time, I felt my family around me like a wall.
Grant reached for the files.
Marisol slapped his hand away.
“Touch that without an evidence log and I call Internal Affairs right now.”
His eyes went flat.
Then another voice came from behind him.
“That won’t be necessary.”
A woman entered wearing a dark coat and an FBI badge.
“Special Agent Claire Whitman,” she said. “Step back from the evidence, Detective Grant.”
Grant went pale.
Carmen’s phone line clicked dead.
Agent Whitman looked at me.
“Sofia Reyes?”
“Yes.”
“Your father sent our office a sealed package two years ago. It opened automatically if anyone accessed this warehouse.”
I could barely breathe.
“What was inside?”
May you like
She looked at the folders.
“Enough to start the war he couldn’t finish.”
