Chapter 7 - The coastal drive
The drive to Pelican Point took three hours. The highway stretched out like a dark ribbon under the bright, full moon, tracing the jagged coastline. Inside the SUV, the atmosphere was a mix of quiet anxiety and strange intimacy. The barrier between the powerful mafia boss and the struggling waitress had cracked, leaving two exhausted people trying to solve a massive puzzle.
Maya looked over at Dante. He had taken his suit jacket off, rolling the sleeves of his black dress shirt up to his elbows, revealing the intricate dark ink of his tattoos. He was reading through one of Clara’s leather-bound diaries, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Is there anything useful in there?” Maya asked softly.
Dante sighed, closing the book and rubbing his eyes.
“It’s mostly ledgers. Numbers, dates, offshore accounts,” he said, his voice weary. “But there are notes in the margins. She was paranoid, Maya. She thought someone inside my organization was watching her.”
“Was someone watching her?”
Dante looked out the window at the dark ocean. “I’m the boss. Someone is always watching. But Clara and I... our marriage wasn’t exactly built on trust.”
Maya hesitated, not wanting to overstep, but her curiosity won out. “Why did she run, Dante? Was she afraid of you?”
Dante turned to look at her. His pale gray eyes were soft, completely devoid of the intimidating glare he usually wore.
“Our marriage was an arrangement. A business deal between our fathers. I never hurt her, Maya. I provided for her, I respected her, and we both loved Sophia more than anything in this world. But I knew she felt trapped. I just never thought she would leave Sophia behind.”
Maya saw the deep vulnerability in his face. Beneath the money and the power, he was just a terrified father trying to put his family back together.
“We’ll find her,” Maya said gently. She reached out, her hand tentatively resting over his.
Dante looked down at her small, pale hand against his rough knuckles. He didn't pull away. Instead, he turned his hand over and gently squeezed her fingers. A warm, electric current passed between them, a quiet acknowledgment of the intense bond forming in the chaos.
“We’re here, sir,” the driver announced, pulling the SUV onto a gravel shoulder.
They stepped out into the cool, salty night air. The ocean crashed against the rocky cliffs below. A short hike up a dirt path stood the Pelican Point lighthouse, a towering structure of white brick glowing faintly under the moonlight. It had been decommissioned years ago, left abandoned to the elements.
Dante led the way, a flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. Maya stayed close behind him, listening to the roar of the ocean.
They reached the heavy, rusted metal door at the base of the lighthouse. Dante reached out and tried the handle. It didn't budge. He inspected the lock. It wasn't an old, rusted padlock like the bakery. It was a brand-new, heavy-duty deadbolt.
“Stand back,” Dante said, preparing to kick the door in.
“Wait,” Maya said, remembering the velvet box. “The key.”
Dante paused. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small silver key they had found in the lockbox. He slid it into the heavy deadbolt.
It turned with a smooth, satisfying click.
Dante pushed the heavy metal door open. The air inside smelled of dust and sea salt. He shined his flashlight into the circular room at the base of the tower.
It was completely empty, save for a single wooden desk in the center of the room.
May you like
On the desk sat a brightly colored, battery-operated camping lantern, glowing with a soft white light. Next to it was a fresh, steaming cup of coffee.
Someone was here.
