Chapter 8: The Boy In The Photograph
Rico Moretti had spent years preparing for enemies.
He had plans for threats.
Plans for attacks.
Plans for betrayal.
But nothing prepared him for hearing that his own brother wanted his son.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The only sound was Leo sleeping upstairs.
Safe.
For now.
Rico looked at Sarah.
“Explain.””
She swallowed.
“I don’t know everything.””
“Then tell me what you know.””
His voice was controlled.
Too controlled.
Sarah looked terrified.
But she continued.
“Matteo believed Elena was going to expose him.””
Rico stared.
“For what?””
“Money.””
Dante shook his head.
“Matteo has enough money.””
Sarah looked at him.
“It wasn’t about money.””
The room went quiet.
“Then what?””
Sarah looked at Rico.
“Power.””
That answer felt familiar.
Because Rico knew that world.
People didn’t always destroy others because they needed something.
Sometimes they destroyed them because they couldn’t stand someone else having it.
“What does Leo have to do with this?”” Rico asked.
Sarah hesitated.
Clara noticed.
“Sarah.””
She looked at Clara.
“What aren’t you saying?””
Sarah’s eyes filled.
“Elena found documents.””
“What documents?””
“About the Moretti family.””
Rico’s expression changed.
“What about it?””
Sarah whispered:
“Leo.””
Nobody moved.
“What about my son?””
Sarah looked down.
“She found out Leo was the only person who could legally control certain assets after you.””
Dante frowned.
“Impossible.””
Sarah shook her head.
“Not if Elena changed the trust.””
Rico went still.
Clara looked at him.
“You didn’t know?””
“No.””
The answer came quietly.
And that scared her.
Because Rico Moretti always knew everything.
Except this.
Sarah continued.
“Matteo couldn’t access those assets while Leo was alive.””
Dante’s face darkened.
“So he wanted the child gone.””
Rico’s expression became terrifyingly calm.
“No.””
The single word silenced the room.
“He wanted my son.””
The difference mattered.
Everyone understood.
Matteo didn’t want revenge.
He wanted possession.
A three-year-old child had become a key.
An obstacle.
A target.
Rico walked away from everyone.
For a moment, Clara saw the man from the restaurant again.
The feared man.
The dangerous man.
But then she saw something else.
A father.
A father trying not to break.
“I should have seen it.””
Dante looked at him.
“Sir.””
“I should have known.””
“You couldn’t have predicted this.””
Rico turned.
“My wife was trying to warn me.””
His voice cracked slightly.
“And I didn’t listen.””
Nobody responded.
Because there was nothing to say.
Clara watched him.
She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault.
But she knew that wasn’t what he needed.
He didn’t need comfort.
He needed someone to stay.
So she stayed.
A few minutes later, Rico went upstairs.
Clara followed.
Not because she was invited.
Because Leo needed someone who understood him.
She found Rico sitting beside the bed.
Leo was asleep.
One small hand rested on Rico’s sleeve.
“You’re good at this.””
Rico looked at her.
“At what?””
“Pretending you’re not scared.””
He looked away.
“I’m not scared.””
Clara sat beside him.
“Okay.””
That answer annoyed him.
“You don’t believe me.””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because you looked more afraid tonight when Leo cried than when you found out someone wanted to kill you.””
Rico was silent.
Then:
“He’s all I have left.””
Clara looked at him.
“No.””
He frowned.
“What?””
“He’s not all you have left.””
Rico didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know how to believe that.
His entire life had been built around protecting people.
But nobody had protected him.
Not until now.
Leo moved slightly.
“Mama?””
Rico immediately leaned closer.
“I’m here.””
The boy opened his eyes.
“Clara?””
“She’s here too.””
Leo looked between them.
Then whispered:
“Don’t fight.””
The words were so simple.
But they hurt.
Because children noticed everything.
Even the things adults tried to hide.
Rico looked at Clara.
“We need to get you somewhere safe.””
She nodded.
Then hesitated.
“What about Leo?””
Rico looked at his son.
“He stays with me.””
Clara understood.
But something bothered her.
“Rico.””
“Yes?””
“Matteo knows you’ll protect him.””
“Of course.””
“That’s why he’ll come for him.””
Rico’s eyes hardened.
“Let him try.””
“No.””
The firmness surprised him.
Clara continued.
“You’re thinking like someone fighting a war.””
“And?””
“And Leo isn’t a weapon.””
The words landed.
Rico looked away.
Because somewhere deep down, he knew she was right.
A knock came at the door.
Dante entered.
“Sir.””
Rico stood.
“What?””
“We found Matteo’s location.””
Everyone froze.
“How?””
Dante handed him a file.
“He wanted us to find it.””
Rico opened it.
Inside was one photograph.
Leo.
Taken earlier that evening.
Sleeping in Rico’s arms.
The picture had been taken inside Il Destino.
While everyone thought they were safe.
On the back was a message.
Rico read it.
His face changed.
Clara stepped closer.
“What does it say?””
Rico handed her the photo.
Three words.
May you like
Three words written in Matteo’s handwriting.
*Bring him home.*
