Chapter 26
Just before four in the morning, the convoy arrived at the secluded stretch of the Montauk coastline. The cabin sat tucked behind wind-bent pines, weathered gray by decades of Atlantic salt spray. Out on the water, the black ocean churned with towering waves, the rhythmic boom of the surf masking all sound. The cabin was dark, save for a faint, yellow sliver of candlelight leaking through a drawn curtain on the ground floor.
Dante held up a fist, ordering his security team to form a wide perimeter fifty yards back in the trees. He wanted no drawn weapons to terrify the woman inside.
"Stay inside the vehicle," Dante said quietly as he opened his door.
"No, Dante," Maya replied firmly, picking Sophia up in her arms and stepping onto the gravel. "Sophia needs to see her mother. And Elena needs to see her child first, so she knows this isn't an execution squad."
Dante studied Maya for a heartbeat, then gave a single, solemn nod. He walked ahead, his footsteps slow and uncharacteristically hesitant as he ascended the wooden porch stairs. He raised his hand and knocked three times—a specific, rhythmic cadence.
Inside, the sound of hurried movement ended in a suffocating silence. Slowly, the heavy pine door cracked open two inches, revealing the dark, trembling barrel of a revolver aimed straight at Dante’s chest.
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"Elena, it's me," Dante whispered, his voice cracking with an emotion he had buried for years. "I brought Sophia home."
The revolver dropped instantly, clattering loudly against the timber floorboards. The door swung wide open. Standing under the dim lantern light was a woman with tangled chestnut hair and hollow, tear-stained cheeks. The moment Elena's eyes landed on the child resting in Maya’s arms, her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her knees.
