Page 63 of Daddies of the Underworld

Thank fuck.

Neither of us had slept, and I’d used up my supply of charming somewhere over the ocean and resorted to this version of myself.

Dante had rented an apartment half a block from Nina’s building, and the driver took us straight there, stopping within a foot of the back door that Dante held open once Matteo texted him of our arrival.

I stopped in front of him. “Fuck, you look like shit.” Somehow, he looked worse than he had in Italy. That took some fucking effort.

The beard was gone, but his eyes were bloodshot, and his shirt was wrinkled enough he must’ve worn it for days. A lesser man would look hungover. Dante looked like violence waiting for a cup of coffee.

I hugged him until bones creaked and he grunted, his body going stiff. Naturally. The man had the emotions of a closed door. Then he clapped me on the back once before shoving me away. “Enough.”

I laughed and entered the apartment. “Beautiful moment, Dante. Very moving. I’ll treasure it always.”

“Treasure this, Luca.” He pelted the back of my head with a slushy snowball that slid down my spine.

I yelped and swung, clipping him on the shoulder.

Matteo stepped forward, and whatever joke I might have made died. He put a hand on Dante’s shoulder, and Dante nodded once. That was it. Years of fear, rage, and failure packed into one tiny movement.

“This way.” Dante led the way upstairs to a small apartment with ratty furniture, a perfect sight line to the apartment where Nina lived, and enough surveillance equipment to put the local shops out of business.

“Which one?” I pointed at the window.

Dante scrubbed the top of his head, his fingers working hard on his scalp. “Third floor. Fifth from the left. Should be asleep right now, but she was up late. I put a sound amplifier on her room and managed to hide a camera in the door. It gives me line of sight into the kitchen and down the hallway to her room.” He didn’t flinch or shy away from the invasion of privacy. “She packed last night. Small bag. Just like last time.”

“Fucking hell.” Matteo’s single curse was enough to set worlds on fire. “I’d hoped for more time to ease into this.”

“She’s been on edge. Senses when she’s being watched. Even when I keep my distance, she’s twitchy.” Dante rested his hands on his hips and cracked his neck. “I have a sensor on her door so I’ll know when she leaves.”

And he’d probably been sitting up all night, afraid he’d miss it and she’d slip out. She’d survived five years on her own by being wily and trusting that little voice in her head. Dante staring her down, even from a distance, would have caused that voice to start screaming.

“What else?” Matteo stared at the camera screen showing a darkened apartment.

“She’s nervous. Changes her route every day. Hasn’t repeated the fire escape scene with Sofia, but she keeps her close.” Dante almost tripped over the girl’s name.

Matteo picked up the folder Dante had prepared. “Records?”

“School enrollment, doctor visits. Got a few people to understand my requests and managed to get a copy of her birth certificate. No father listed.” He blinked, his head lifting to the window. “They stopped at an ice cream place a few nights ago. Sofia threw her spoon and bowl away outside. I took it.” Again, he didn’t react to the invasion. None of us did. “The DNA report will be back any minute.”

Because he’d found a way to rush results through one of our labs, and they already had all of our DNA on file. I wanted to hug him again.

Dante’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, read the screen, then moved to the computer. “It’s here.”

“But it on the monitor.” Matteo’s hand closed around the folder, crumpling it into a ball.

Dante tapped a few keys, and a lab report filled the screen. Sofia’s name captured my attention for several seconds. I tried to read it, but my heart beat in my eyes, making them jump so that the words blurred.

“Dante, summarize.” Matteo sounded as gutted as I felt.

Dante swallowed hard. “The sample from Sofia shows a paternal genetic relationship to one of the submitted profiles.”

A laugh slipped out. It sounded terrible. Strained and not at all like me. “Well, that’s one way to start a morning.”

No one laughed with me. Rude. But understandable.

Matteo remained standing while Dante and I sank into threadbare chairs. My fingers dug into my knees. “Can they tell which one?”

“Yes. There’s a second report. I just have to open it.”