Chapter 16 - The Serpent at the Table|
The heavy oak door creaked open inches.
Little Sophia stood in the doorway, wearing her yellow fleece pajamas and clutching her one-eared stuffed cat tightly against her chest.
She looked around the vast, cavernous library with big, curious brown eyes before her gaze landed on Dante sitting by the fire.
Dante set his glass down immediately. He did not move abruptly, knowing children were easily startled.
“Sophia,” Dante said softly, his voice remarkably gentle. “What are you doing awake?”
The toddler padded across the thick Persian rug with silent, bare feet, stopping right beside his leather armchair. She set her stuffed cat on his knee, looking up at his face with absolute, unbothered trust.
“Mom is making cookies,” Sophia announced in her small, clear voice. “She said I have to say thank you to the big boss.”
Dante couldn't help the faint, genuine smile that tugged at the corner of his lips—a rare, human expression that no man in the five families had seen in a decade.
“You don't need to thank me, Sophia,” Dante said, bending down slightly so he was at eye level with her. “You saved this house.”
Sophia tilted her head, her dark eyes reflecting the warm orange light of the hearth fire.
“Did the bad lady go away?” she asked innocently.
“Yes,” Dante answered quietly. “She went very far away.”
Sophia nodded, satisfied with the answer. She reached into her small pajama pocket and pulled out a tiny, silver object, holding it out toward Dante on her palm.
“I found this under the sofa in the big room,” Sophia said. “It was shiny.”
Dante looked down at her small palm.
Lying in her hand was a high-end titanium lapel pin shaped like a coiled viper—the exclusive crest worn only by the senior commanders of the Ndrangheta—the syndicate operating out of South America and Western Europe.
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Dante’s blood instantly ran cold.
Neither Carmine Russo, nor Isabella, nor Santino had ever belonged to the Ndrangheta.
