Chapter 7
Luca did not put the call on speaker.
He listened for less than a minute.
Then said, “No. You come here.”
A pause.
His jaw tightened.
“I don’t care what Dominic told you.”
Another pause.
“No. I’m not putting Nico on the phone.”
The boy looked at him.
So did I.
Elena knew his name.
Luca’s face hardened.
“You knew.”
Silence on our side.
Then he whispered, “How long?”
Whatever answer came made him close his eyes.
He ended the call without goodbye.
Nico asked the question nobody else wanted to.
“Does Grandma know me?”
Luca sat down.
“She knows about you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I looked at him.
Seven years old.
Still precise.
Luca nodded slowly.
“She has seen photographs.”
Nico’s face changed.
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom showed her?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Luca rubbed both hands over his face.
“I don’t know yet.”
Nico pushed away from the table.
“I’m tired.”
He left the room before Luca could answer.
I followed.
Nico made it halfway to the stairs before he stopped.
“Everybody knew me.”
I stood behind him.
“Not everybody.”
“Dad didn’t.”
“No.”
“That’s worse.”
I could not argue.
He turned.
“Did you know Grandma knew?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
He studied my face.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Trust from a child felt heavier than anything Vanessa had ever made me carry.
I walked him to his room.
He crawled under the blankets without changing.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“If Dad finds out everybody lied, will he leave?”
My chest tightened.
“No.”
“You don’t know.”
“No,” I admitted. “But I know how he looks at you.”
Nico stared at the ceiling.
“How?”
“Like he lost seven years and wants to fight the clock.”
Nico considered that.
“Can people fight clocks?”
“Not successfully.”
He smiled faintly.
Then slept.
When I returned downstairs, Luca stood alone on the terrace.
Marco was making calls inside.
I almost left Luca alone.
Then he spoke without turning.
“She knew from the beginning.”
I stopped.
“My mother knew Sofia was pregnant.”
I joined him at the railing.
“What did she say?”
“That my father told her the child wasn’t mine.”
“Did she believe him?”
“For a while.”
“And after?”
“She hired somebody to watch Sofia.”
My stomach tightened.
“The photographs.”
“Yes.”
“She saw Nico growing up.”
“Yes.”
“But never told you.”
“No.”
I looked across the black lake.
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid of Dominic.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It might.”
He looked at me.
“My father’s death wasn’t natural.”
I froze.
Officially, Salvatore Moretti had died of a heart attack five years earlier.
Luca continued.
“The family buried it. He collapsed after dinner. Toxicology showed a medication interaction nobody could explain.”
“You think Dominic did it?”
“I think my mother thinks Dominic did.”
“And he threatened her?”
“She didn’t say.”
“She didn’t need to.”
Luca gave me a tired look.
“You see patterns quickly.”
“Working in houses teaches you that.”
“How?”
“People forget staff are in the room.”
His mouth tightened.
“I didn’t forget you.”
“You barely saw me.”
He accepted that too.
Then he looked at my bruised cheek.
“I see you now.”
The words were too intimate.
I looked away.
“Don’t say things like that tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re both exhausted and your wife is missing and your son just appeared and I’m technically your employee.”
“Technically?”
“I’m not sure what I am anymore.”
“Neither am I.”
For one dangerous second, neither of us moved.
Then Marco opened the door.
“Elena’s plane leaves Florence in two hours. She’ll land at Teterboro tomorrow morning.”
Luca stepped back from me.
“Good.”
“Also, police found Vanessa.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“Not her. Her passport.”
Luca frowned.
“At Newark airport. In a trash bin near Terminal B.”
“Decoy.”
“Probably.”
“What about Dominic?”
“No confirmed location.”
Marco hesitated.
“But his company jet took off from Morristown at four-twelve.”
“Destination?”
“Filed for Montreal.”
“Did it land?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
“Transponder went dark over upstate New York.”
Luca swore.
Then a security alarm sounded upstairs.
Three short beeps.
Marco’s face changed instantly.
“Window sensor.”
Nico.
We ran.
My arm screamed with every step.
Luca reached the bedroom first.
The bed was empty.
The window was open.
Curtains moving in the cold night air.
For half a second Luca stopped breathing.
Then Marco checked the bathroom.
Nothing.
“Lock the perimeter!”
Guards moved below.
I stared at the bed.
Something was wrong.
The blanket had been folded back neatly.
Nico did not sleep neatly.
I checked beneath the bed.
Empty.
Then I saw mud.
One footprint.
Small.
Near the window.
Another on the sill.
“He climbed out himself.”
Luca turned.
“Why?”
A folded paper lay beneath the pillow.
I opened it.
Child’s handwriting.
I heard someone outside say Mom’s name. I’m going to look. Don’t be mad.
Luca’s face collapsed into fear.
“Camera.”
Marco pulled the outdoor feed.
At 10:41 p.m., a figure appeared near the tree line.
Woman.
Dark coat.
She never approached the house.
She simply stood beneath a light and lifted something.
Sofia’s green box.
Nico opened his window four minutes later.
He climbed onto the porch roof.
Down a trellis.
Then ran toward the trees.
The woman disappeared.
Nico followed.
Luca grabbed a flashlight.
I grabbed another.
“Stay here,” he said.
“No.”
“Claire.”
“He’ll answer me if he’s scared.”
That stopped him.
We entered the woods with six guards spread around us.
“Nico!”
No answer.
“Nico!”
Branches tore at my coat.
My bandage loosened.
I ignored it.
The lake house property covered forty acres.
Too much darkness.
Too many places to hide.
Then I heard crying.
Faint.
To the left.
“Stop.”
Everyone froze.
Again.
A child.
I ran toward the sound.
Luca followed.
We found Nico near the old boat shed.
Alive.
Sitting against a tree.
His ankle caught in a loop of wire.
A crude snare.
Luca dropped beside him.
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t move.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“You’re okay.”
Luca’s hands shook as he loosened the wire.
“You’re okay.”
Nico clung to him.
“The lady ran away.”
“What lady?”
“I thought it was Mom.”
His voice broke.
“She sounded like Mom.”
I looked at Marco.
A recording.
Someone had used Sofia’s voice to lure him outside.
Then Nico opened his fist.
Something was inside.
A silver pendant.
Luca stared.
“My mother’s.”
“What?” I asked.
“Elena wears this every day.”
Nico looked terrified.
“The lady dropped it.”
Luca took the pendant.
There was fresh blood on the chain.
Marco’s face hardened.
“Elena’s plane hasn’t left Florence yet.”
Luca looked at him.
“Call her.”
Marco did.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then his phone buzzed with an incoming message from Elena’s number.
One photograph.
Elena Moretti seated in a chair.
Hands bound.
Blood at her temple.
Behind her stood Dominic.
Beside him—
Vanessa.
The message beneath the photograph contained one sentence.
BRING NICO AND SOFIA’S DRIVE IF YOU WANT YOUR MOTHER BACK.
Before the alarm upstairs, Elena called a second time.
This time Luca put her on speaker because Nico had asked to hear her voice.
Elena sounded older than I remembered.
“Nicolas,” she whispered.
Nico did not answer immediately.
“You know me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
A long pause.
“I received photographs.”
“From who?”
“Marianne.”
Mrs. Rainer.
Nico’s expression closed.
“Did you send birthday presents?”
Elena’s breath caught.
“Yes.”
Nico looked at Luca.
“The blue bicycle?”
Elena answered before Luca could.
“Yes.”
“And the dinosaur books?”
“Yes.”
“And the red coat?”
“Yes.”
Nico swallowed.
“I thought Mrs. Rainer bought those.”
“I asked her not to tell you.”
“Why?”
Elena began to cry quietly.
“Because I was a coward.”
That answer stunned all of us.
Adults rarely spoke to children with that much accuracy.
Nico’s face did not soften.
“Did you know Dad didn’t know me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell him?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Uncle Dominic?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Nico looked down at his socks.
“I was scared in the guesthouse.”
Elena made a broken sound.
“I know.”
“You still didn’t come.”
“No.”
Nico handed the phone back to Luca.
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Luca took it.
Elena whispered his name.
He ended the call.
No one criticized Nico.
No one told him family deserved forgiveness.
That mattered.
After Nico left the call, Luca remained in the hallway for several minutes.
“He shouldn’t have to decide whether to forgive adults,” he said.
“He doesn’t,” I answered.
“My mother is still his grandmother.”
“That gives her a relationship to him. It doesn’t give her access to him.”
Luca looked at me.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
“My family doesn’t.”
“I’ve noticed.”
A faint smile appeared.
Then disappeared.
“I spent my whole life being told blood creates obligation.”
“And what do you think now?”
He looked toward Nico’s room.
“I think blood creates responsibility for the adult. Not debt for the child.”
That answer stayed with me.
May you like
Because Luca was finally separating love from ownership, something the Moretti family had failed to do for generations.
And somewhere outside the lake house, Dominic was still counting on the old rules.
