Chapter 6 - The Road to Chicago
By 4:00 AM, we were speeding west along Interstate 90 in a high-powered armored sedan provided by Marco’s secondary team.
The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind a thick, low-hanging fog that clung to the asphalt like ghostly smoke. In the front passenger seat, Marco sat with his shoulder tightly bandaged, his face pale but functional, monitoring a encrypted laptop screen.
In the back, Lily had finally succumbed to absolute exhaustion. She lay across the leather seat, her head resting on my lap, sleeping deeply under a thick wool blanket. Her hand was still loosely gripping my fingers, even in her sleep.
Matteo drove. His hands were steady on the wheel, his posture upright, completely ignoring the crude bandages wrapped around his ribs.
I sat behind him, watching his silhouette reflected in the rearview mirror.
“Why didn't you tell me about my father?” I asked softly, breaking the hours-long silence.
Matteo met my eyes in the mirror. “Because until three days ago, I believed Edward Vance was a thief who betrayed my family and disappeared with twenty million dollars.”
“And you never searched for him?”
“I searched for him for two years,” Matteo admitted, his voice rough. “I wanted to kill him with my own hands. But every lead Silas gave me ended in a dead end. Silas made sure I stayed blind, Elena. He fed me fake reports, forged bank transactions, and whispered poison in my ear every time I questioned your father’s memory.”
I looked down at Lily’s peaceful face. “And Lily? When did she start signing?”
Matteo’s expression softened in the mirror, a faint trace of pain lingering around his mouth.
“Her mother died when Lily was two,” Matteo explained quietly. “Shortly after, Lily suffered a severe high fever that destroyed her hearing. I brought the best specialists from London, New York, Tokyo... none of them could fix it. I didn't know sign language, Elena. In my world, weakness is a death sentence. I tried to protect her by keeping her hidden, keeping her safe in the fortress... but I only succeeded in making her a prisoner in her own world.”
“She was lonely, Matteo,” I said gently. “She wasn't stupid. She saw everything.”
“I know,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “The night at the restaurant... when she spilled that glass and panicked, I saw how you looked at her. You didn't look at her like she was broken. You looked at her like she was a person.”
“My little brother was deaf,” I told him, tears coming back to my eyes. “We learned sign language together when we were kids. When I saw Lily, I didn't see a mafia Don’s daughter. I just saw a frightened child who needed someone to listen to her.”
Matteo was silent for a long time. The highway hummed beneath us as the first pale light of dawn began to bleed through the gray horizon.
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“When this is over, Elena,” Matteo said, his voice firm and unwavering, “you and Lily will never have to hide again. I give you my word as a Varela.”
Lily twitched in her sleep, her tiny fingers tightening around mine. I leaned down and kissed her soft forehead, praying silently that Matteo’s word would be enough to keep us alive through the storm waiting for us in Chicago.
