“She Can’t Even Read the Menu!”—Then the Waitress Answered in Fluent French and Silenced the Mafia Boss

Sophie stared at the train ticket, the silver rosary burning cold against her palm.

They found him.

Her father was alive. For two agonizing years, she had assumed he was dead in a ditch, killed by the loan sharks he had run from. But Alessandro Moretti had his rosary. Which meant the mafia capo either had her father, or knew who did.

A violent pounding on the apartment door made Sophie jump.

“Open up, Dubois!” a gruff voice yelled. It was Mr. Henderson, the landlord. “I know you’re in there! The rent was due Friday. You’re out!”

“Pack your backpack, Leo. Quickly and quietly,” Sophie whispered.

Leo didn’t cry. He was too used to running. He shoved his crayons and his favorite stuffed bear into his little canvas bag.

Sophie grabbed the envelope of cash she had earned from the tip—nearly three thousand dollars—and stuffed it into her coat. She wrapped Leo in his thickest sweater.

The doorknob rattled violently. “I’m getting the master key!” Henderson shouted.

“Out the window,” Sophie commanded.

She pushed the rusted fire escape window open, lifting her little brother through the narrow gap into the rain-soaked alley. She scrambled out right as the front door burst open. They ran down the dark alley, the freezing rain soaking through their thin clothes, until they reached the subway.

By 11:45 PM, they were standing in the massive, echoing hall of Grand Central Terminal.

Sophie kept Leo tucked tightly against her side, her eyes scanning the crowds. She clutched the train ticket to Montreal. Track 14.

As they approached the platform, a tall figure stepped out from the shadows of a marble pillar.

It was Alessandro.

He was alone, wearing a long dark trench coat. He looked down at Leo, his expression unreadable.

“You brought the boy,” Alessandro said. His voice was deep, lacking the cruelty he had shown Camilla at the restaurant.

“If you touch him, I’ll kill you myself,” Sophie snarled, pushing Leo behind her legs.

Alessandro actually smiled. It was a sad, tired smile. “I don’t hurt children, Sophie. And I didn’t hurt your father.”

“Then why do you have his rosary?” she demanded, holding up the silver beads.

“Because he gave it to me,” Alessandro said quietly. “He begged me to find you before the Russo family did. Your father didn’t run away because of gambling debts. That was a lie the syndicate spread to discredit him. He ran because he found out Camilla’s father was using the French embassy to launder cartel money.”

Sophie’s mind spun. “My father is a good man. He would have gone to the authorities.”

“He tried. But the Russos own the authorities,” Alessandro stepped closer, lowering his voice. “They locked your father in a private holding facility. They’ve tortured him for two years, trying to find the ledger he hid—the ledger that proves the Russos’ treason.”

“Why are you helping me?” Sophie asked, her eyes narrowing. “You’re a capo. You work with the Russos.”

“I work against them,” Alessandro corrected. “My older brother was a prosecutor. The Russos murdered him and framed him as a dirty cop. I infiltrated their ranks to tear them down from the inside. But I can’t do it without your father’s ledger.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a faded, crumpled photograph.

Sophie gasped. It was a picture of her father, holding up a newspaper with yesterday’s date. He looked bruised, starving, and exhausted, but his eyes were fierce.

“He’s alive,” Sophie choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“For now,” Alessandro said. “But Camilla suspects I’m the mole. She saw how I looked at you in the restaurant. She’s already sending men to your apartment.”

“We have to get on the train,” Sophie said, grabbing Leo’s hand.

“The train ticket was a test, to see if you were brave enough to show up,” Alessandro said, taking the ticket from her hand and tearing it in half. “If you get on that train, Camilla’s men will execute you at the border. You’re coming with me.”

He turned toward the private VIP exits.

But suddenly, the screech of tires echoed from the street above. The heavy glass doors of the terminal shattered as three men in dark suits burst inside, holding suppressed weapons.

Alessandro cursed in Italian, grabbing Sophie’s arm. “Run!”

But Leo suddenly stopped, pointing at the shattered doors.