Chapter 3 - THE BURIED TRUTH
The attack lasted only ten minutes,
but it felt like a lifetime.
When the door finally opened,
it wasn't Matteo,
but Henry,
his suit jacket torn and his face pale.
"They're safe,"
he said immediately,
knowing exactly what I was going to ask.
"The children are in the bunker."
I pushed past him,
running through the house toward the hidden elevator.
The grand foyer was a mess of shattered crystal and bullet holes in the plaster.
I found the safe room—a high-tech bunker hidden beneath the basement.
Rosie was sitting on a plush sofa,
clutching Leo’s hand,
while Asher and Nico stood guard by the door with plastic toy swords.
When she saw me,
she burst into tears and ran into my arms.
"I'm here,
baby,"
I whispered,
holding her so tight I thought I might break her.
"I'm here."
The triplets watched us,
their faces grim and older than their years.
They didn't cry;
they had been trained for this since they could walk.
Later that night,
after the police had come and gone and the cleanup had begun,
I found myself in Matteo’s private study.
He was sitting behind his desk,
staring at a monitor that showed the perimeter footage.
"Who was it?"
I asked,
my voice trembling with anger.
"A rival from the city,"
he said,
not looking at me.
"They thought I was weak because I hired a new nanny."
"This isn't just about business,"
I said,
walking up to his desk.
"I found something while I was looking for the children."
I pulled a small,
burnt photograph from my pocket.
I had found it in the hallway,
dropped by one of the intruders.
It was a picture of a woman who looked exactly like the triplets,
but her eyes were filled with fear.
On the back,
someone had written:
*The first one left,
the next one dies.*
Matteo’s eyes widened as he saw the photo.
He snatched it from my hand,
his jaw tightening.
"Where did you get this?"
"It was on the floor,"
I said.
"Who is she,
Matteo?
And why did someone bring this into your house tonight?"
He went silent,
the shadows of the room swallowing his features.
"That was their mother,"
he said finally,
his voice barely audible.
"The world thinks she ran away with a lover."
"But she didn't,"
I guessed.
"She was taken,"
he admitted,
his voice cracking.
"And I couldn't stop it."
"Is that why you're so hard on them?"
I asked.
"Is that why you won't let anyone get close?"
"I let her get close,"
he said,
looking up at me,
"and she paid the price for it."
He stood up,
walking around the desk until he was standing directly in front of me.
"The people who did this,"
he said,
"they aren't just after my money."
"They want to destroy everything I love."
"Which means you and your daughter are now in their crosshairs."
"I should leave,"
I whispered,
though the thought of the eviction notice and the eleven dollars felt like a lifetime ago.
"I should take Rosie and run as far as I can."
"You can't,"
he said,
taking my hand.
"They’ve seen your face."
"If you leave this house,
I can't protect you."
I looked at our joined hands,
the mafia boss and the waitress.
I realized that the secret of the Ricci family wasn't just about violence.
It was about a loss so profound it had frozen them all in time.
"Then we fight,"
I said,
surprising even myself.
"We don't just hide in bunkers."
"We find out who is doing this,
and we stop them."
Matteo looked at me with a mixture of awe and terror.
May you like
"You really aren't like the others,"
he said.
