Chapter 6 - THE WARNING LEFT ON THE BOY'S BED
Nobody breathed.
Vanessa slowly turned around, staring at Luca as if looking at a ghost. The rifle in his hands didn't waver.
Marco and his men at the bottom of the stairs froze, recognizing the lethal intent in the mafia boss’s eyes.
“What did you say?” Vanessa whispered, her voice cracking.
Luca took a slow step down the stairs. “My father didn't give your son away, Vanessa. Don Bellini told you that lie so you would hate us. So you would agree to this engagement and spy on me.”
“You’re lying!” she screamed, her hands flying to her face. “My father wouldn't do that!”
“Your father is a parasite,” Luca said coldly. He kept the rifle aimed steadily at Marco. “Drop the weapons. Now.”
Marco hesitated.
Luca didn't blink. He pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck the marble floor an inch from Marco's foot, sending stone shrapnel flying.
Marco dropped his remaining gun. The other two men immediately did the same.
“Kick them away,” Luca ordered.
As they complied, Luca looked down at me. “Rachel. Take Ben to the panic room. Now.”
“No!” Vanessa lunged forward, grabbing the banister. “Where is my son, Luca?! If your father didn't take him, where is he?!”
Luca didn't look at her. He looked at Caroline.
Caroline’s eyes were wide with horrific realization. She looked from Luca, to Vanessa, and then slowly down to the little boy clinging to my apron.
Benjamin.
“Oh my god,” Caroline whispered, her voice breaking. She covered her mouth with her good hand. “Luca… tell me it isn't true.”
The silence in the grand hall became absolute.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
I looked down at Benjamin.
Dark hair. Dark eyes. A quiet, serious demeanor that mirrored Luca perfectly. But Luca's brother, Matteo, had looked exactly like Luca.
Vanessa followed Caroline’s gaze.
She stared at the nine-year-old boy cowering against me.
“No,” Vanessa breathed, backing away. “No. He’s Caroline’s. He’s yours and Caroline’s.”
Luca lowered the rifle just an inch.
The pain in his eyes was staggering.
“Caroline couldn't have children,” Luca said softly. His voice was filled with a decade of buried grief. “Nine years ago, my father brought me a newborn baby. He said a young girl in the neighborhood couldn't care for him. He told me to raise him as my own to protect him from the streets.”
Caroline was sobbing now, sliding down the wall until she sat on the floor, holding her cast against her chest.
“You didn't know?” she cried to Luca. “You really didn't know he was Matteo’s?”
“Not until yesterday,” Luca confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I found my father’s old ledger. He didn't take the boy to hurt you, Vanessa. He took him because your father ordered his men to drown the baby in the river to erase the Moretti bloodline. My father saved him.”
Vanessa collapsed onto the stairs, her red dress billowing around her like a pool of blood.
She stared at Benjamin.
The boy who untied the blue balloon.
The boy she had tormented, belittled, and tried to ship to a Swiss boarding school.
The boy she had just ordered Marco to kidnap.
Her own son.
“Benjamin,” Vanessa whispered, reaching a trembling hand toward him.
Benjamin shrank back, burying his face deeper into my neck.
“Don't touch him,” I growled, stepping backward. It didn't matter that she was his biological mother. Caroline was the one who loved him. Caroline was the one who brought him the blue balloons.
Vanessa began to wail. It was a horrifying, animalistic sound of pure agony.
While she screamed, Marco made his move.
He didn't go for his gun. He pulled a serrated hunting knife from his boot and lunged not at Luca, but at the weakest target in the room.
Me and Benjamin.
“Rachel, move!” Luca roared.
I twisted violently, throwing Benjamin behind me and taking the brunt of the impact.
Marco crashed into me, driving us both into the mahogany console table. The breath exploded from my lungs. The sharp sting of the blade sliced through the fabric of my dress, tearing into my shoulder.
I screamed.
Marco raised the knife to finish it.
But before the blade could come down, a heavy wooden object smashed into the side of Marco’s head.
Marco crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
I looked up, gasping through the pain in my shoulder.
Standing over him, breathing heavily, was Benjamin.
In his little hands, he held the wooden telescope Caroline had given him. It was cracked down the middle from the impact.
Benjamin looked at the broken telescope, then at the blood on my shoulder.
Tears streamed down his face.
“You broke my mommy's present,” the nine-year-old said to the unconscious hitman.
Then he dropped the broken wood, ran to Caroline, and threw his arms around her neck.
“Mommy,” he cried.
Caroline wrapped her good arm around him, burying her face in his hair, sobbing uncontrollably.
Vanessa watched them from the stairs.
She watched her biological son cling to the woman who had actually raised him.
She saw the absolute truth. Blood didn't make a mother. Love did.
Luca walked down the remaining stairs. He didn't look at Vanessa.
He walked over to me, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it firmly against my bleeding shoulder.
“Are you alright, Rachel?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I’m okay,” I gasped, though the pain was searing.
Luca nodded. He looked toward the front doors.
“We have to move. Don Bellini’s main force will be here in five minutes. This was just the advance team.”
“Where do we go?” Caroline asked, holding Benjamin tight.
May you like
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy iron key.
“To the only place Bellini can't reach us.”
