Chapter 8 A Dangerous Curiosity

The night air clung to Sofia’s skin as she tightened her coat around her, her heels clicking softly against the cracked asphalt of the near empty parking lot. Her heart was beating too fast, her palms very sweaty, but she didn’t turn back. She couldn’t go back now.

Two men were already waiting, shadows leaning against a black car parked beneath the flickering light. One smoked lazily, the ember of his cigarette glowing with each drag. The other had his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his shoulders squared.

Sofia swallowed hard and forced herself to move forward.

“You’re late,” the smoker said, his tone more of observation than insult.

“I had to be sure I wasn’t followed,” Sofia replied, trying to steady her voice.

“Hmmm, you called us to meet, saying it was urgent, that life depended on it, yet you don't act that way.” the smoker said

“You said you had information.” Sofia replied swiftly.

The second man stepped away from the car, walking towards her slowly, his gaze sweeping over her. “Information isn’t free. And we don’t hand it out to strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger.” She spat out angrily, forcing the words through her clenched teeth. “You know my family. You owe the Bianchi, you owe me.”

That made them exchange a look. The smoker raised a brow. “Big words, sweetheart. But why would a Bianchi girl be sniffing around about Dante Moretti? Is your father aware?”

Sofia’s fists curled at her sides. “Because I need to know what happened to her, my cousin, and my father do not need to be aware.”

The smoker dropped his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot. The other man stopped circling and stepped closer.

“Cousin?” he repeated, voice low.

“Yes,” Sofia snapped. “She disappeared days ago. Nobody tells me anything. But I know, I know she’s with him. I know Dante Moretti has her.”

The smoker let out a low whistle. “Brave, saying his name out loud in the open like that.”

“Foolish,” the other muttered.

“I don’t care!” Sofia’s voice broke out. “She’s all I have. Do you understand? She isn’t just my cousin, she’s my sister, my best friend. And now she’s… she’s been dragged into this, this world that has nothing to do with her.” Her voice shook, but she forced the words out anyway. “If you know where she is, if you know anything, you tell me. Right now.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The parking lot felt colder, emptier, as if the night itself was listening.

“Nothing to do with her you say, so she isn't aware about the line of business her father and yours were involved in.” The smoker broke the silence, pulling his jacket tighter.

“Can we focus on the matter at hand?”

“Listen, girl. You don’t know what you’re asking. If Dante’s got her, there’s nothing you can do. Hell, there’s nothing anyone can do unless he decides otherwise, so I will advise you, if you love your life stay clear from this.”

“That’s not good enough.” Sofia stepped closer, her voice sharp. “I won’t just sit and wait while she, while she’s trapped with him at his mercy. I need to see her. I need to know she’s alive.”

The second man exhaled slowly, like he was weighing something dangerous. “You’re going to get yourself killed. Asking around about Moretti? Do you know how many ears are on his name in this city?”

“I don’t care,” Sofia whispered, her voice laced with pain. “I care about her. So you either tell me who can get me close to him, or I’ll keep asking until someone does.”

Another heavy silence.

Finally, the smoker sighed, dragging a hand over his jaw. “You’re crazy. Just like her, maybe.”

He glanced at his partner, who muttered something under his breath in Italian, then stepped forward until he was close enough for Sofia to smell the faint scent of leather and smoke clinging to his jacket.

“There’s a man,” he said at last. “Name’s Vanni. He runs cards out of the Silver Club on 5th. He’s got lines into the Moretti 's crew. If anyone can get you close, it’s him.”

Sofia’s breath caught, a flicker of hope sparking through her fear. “Vanni. The Silver Club. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us,” the smoker cut in sharply, his tone turning cold. “This isn’t a favor. It’s a warning. If Dante finds out you’re poking around, if De Luca’s people catch wind of you asking questions—”

Her eyes snapped to his. “De Luca?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. The other man shot him a glare, as if he’d already said too much.

But before Sofia could press further, the smoker stepped back, flicking open another cigarette with trembling fingers. “Forget I said that. Just remember this, men like Dante don’t keep girls around for long unless they serve a purpose. And men like De Luca…” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Men like him don’t leave survivors. So stay off their territory, don't get yourself tangled up in their world.”

The words hit her like a blow.

Sofia stood frozen, the ground beneath her feet suddenly unsteady. She wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but the men were already moving, slipping back into the car without another word.

The engine rumbled, headlights cutting through the shadows, and then they were gone, leaving her alone under the flickering streetlight.

Sofia wrapped her arms around herself. She’d gotten what she wanted, a name, a lead. But the warning clung to her like smoke, heavier than the night air.

She turned to leave, her heels clicking against the pavement. But just as she reached the edge of the lot, a figure shifted in the shadows across the street. A man with a phone pressed to his ear, his face hidden beneath the brim of his cap.

“She’s asking about Dante Moretti,” he murmured into the receiver.

And then he disappeared into the night.