Chapter 3 - The Chair Beside Luca's Desk
The next morning, the estate looked like a prison.
Every entrance was guarded.
Every employee was questioned.
Every vehicle was searched.
Nobody left.
Nobody was allowed to use personal phones.
Yet Mia slept peacefully.
She woke at eight.
Asked for pancakes.
Then asked Luca why everyone looked angry.
He sat across from her at breakfast.
“Because grown-ups are complicated.”
Mia considered that.
“Mommy says I'm complicated.”
Luca looked at me.
“I believe her.”
Mia giggled.
For a moment, it felt normal.
Almost.
Then the door opened.
Julian entered.
He carried a file.
Luca looked up.
“What?”
“We found the vehicle.”
“Where?”
“South gate.”
“Plate?”
“Fake.”
“Driver?”
“Dead.”
The room went quiet.
Luca's eyes hardened.
“Who killed him?”
“Someone wanted us to find him.”
I stood.
“Meaning?”
Julian looked at me.
“It means we're being led.”
Luca's attention shifted to Mia.
Then to me.
“Move them.”
“Where?” Julian asked.
“Somewhere no one knows.”
I immediately shook my head.
“No.”
Luca looked at me.
“You're not staying here.”
“My daughter has school.”
“No.”
“She has a routine.”
“Her routine nearly got her killed.”
I looked at him.
“I don't want my daughter growing up believing fear is normal.”
Luca went silent.
Something in his face softened.
“I agree.”
“Then don't lock her away.”
“I won't.”
“Where are we going?”
“An old house in Westchester.”
Julian frowned.
“That property hasn't been used in years.”
“Exactly.”
I didn't like it.
But I agreed.
Before we left, Mia insisted on showing Luca something.
She took him to the little green chair.
She climbed onto it.
Then pointed at a drawing taped to his desk.
It was a family.
Four stick figures.
Mia.
Me.
Luca.
And a fourth figure with red hair.
Luca frowned.
“Who's this?”
Mia looked at him.
“Daddy.”
I stopped breathing.
Luca looked at me.
“You told her her father was dead.”
I nodded.
“He died before she was born.”
“How?”
“A car accident.”
Luca studied the drawing.
“What was his name?”
“Mason.”
Something changed in his eyes.
“Last name?”
I hesitated.
“Ward.”
Luca went completely still.
Julian looked at him.
“Boss?”
Luca ignored him.
“Where did he work?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“No.”
“He had a military background.”
“How do you know?”
Luca looked at me.
“Because Mason Ward worked for my father.”
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“I knew the name.”
He took out his phone.
Pulled up a photograph.
A younger man stood beside Luca's father.
Mason.
My husband.
My dead husband.
I stared.
“That isn't possible.”
Luca looked at the photograph.
“He wasn't a driver.”
“He was an accountant.”
I shook my head.
“He told me he repaired aircraft.”
Luca's expression became colder.
“He lied.”
I felt sick.
Mia was still sitting on the chair.
“Mommy?”
I forced a smile.
“It's okay.”
But it wasn't.
Mason had disappeared from my life under mysterious circumstances.
I had been told he died after losing control of his car.
No body.
No funeral.
No grave.
Just a phone call.
I had been three months pregnant.
Three years later, I still dreamed about him.
Now Luca was telling me he had worked for the Valente family.
And the paper hidden inside my daughter's teddy bear was connected to the same world.
I looked at him.
“Did your father kill him?”
Luca's face became expressionless.
“I don't know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“We're going to find out.”
We drove to Westchester under heavy security.
Mia sat beside me in the back.
Teddy was in her arms.
Luca sat across from us.
For most of the journey, nobody spoke.
Then Mia lifted the bear.
“Mr. Luca.”
He looked at her.
“Yes?”
“Why are there people following us?”
He glanced toward the convoy.
“To keep you safe.”
“Are they bad?”
“No.”
“Are you bad?”
Silence.
I looked at Luca.
He looked at Mia.
“No,” he finally said.
She nodded.
“Mommy says bad people lie.”
Luca looked at me.
“Your mother is right.”
We reached the house.
It was beautiful.
Old stone.
Tall windows.
A garden buried beneath snow.
The property had been unused for years.
Mia ran through the hallway.
I followed.
Luca remained near the entrance.
I noticed something strange.
He didn't look relieved.
He looked worried.
“What's wrong?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“You're lying.”
His eyes met mine.
“Your daughter's rules are contagious.”
I almost smiled.
Then I noticed the ring he had placed back on his finger.
The black hawk.
“Julian has the same symbol.”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“Family loyalty.”
“Do you trust him?”
Luca hesitated.
“I did.”
The answer frightened me.
That night, Mia fell asleep beside me.
Teddy tucked beneath her chin.
I stayed awake.
At 2:00 a.m., I heard footsteps.
I opened the bedroom door.
Luca stood in the hallway.
“You need to leave.”
“What?”
“Take your daughter and go.”
“Why?”
He looked past me.
“Because this house isn't safe.”
Before I could respond, the lights went out.
A gunshot cracked downstairs.
Luca pulled me behind him.
Another shot.
Then shouting.
He handed me a gun.
I stared.
“I don't know how to—”
“Point and pull.”
He stepped away.
“Where are you going?”
“To find the person who followed us.”
He disappeared down the stairs.
I grabbed Mia.
She woke crying.
“Mommy?”
“Quiet game.”
Again.
Always the quiet game.
We hid.
Five minutes later, Luca returned.
His shirt was torn.
Blood covered his hands.
But he wasn't wounded.
He crouched beside us.
Mia stared.
“Did you get hurt?”
“No.”
She touched his sleeve.
“Good.”
Luca looked at her.
Then at me.
And something changed in his face.
Not fear.
Decision.
“No one is taking you,” he whispered.
“Do you understand?”
Mia nodded.
He looked at me.
“I don't care who started this.”
May you like
His voice dropped.
“They crossed the wrong line.”
