Chapter 2 - The Photograph That Rewrote The Past

“Get away from him, Vanessa!” Luca roared, shielding Leo with his own body.

Victor Bellini walked slowly down the center aisle of the chapel. His footsteps echoed against the marble floor.

“Hello, Luca,” Victor said. His voice was smooth, cultured, and completely devoid of empathy. “I see you’ve met my grandson.”

“He is my son,” Luca snarled.

“Technically, yes,” Victor conceded, stopping ten feet away. “But practically? He is the key to the Moretti empire. A key I’ve spent eleven years waiting to turn.”

Leo was terrified. He clutched the back of Luca’s suit jacket, hiding behind the massive man he had just met.

“Aunt Vanessa?” Leo cried out. “Why do they have guns?”

Vanessa’s hand trembled slightly as she kept her weapon aimed at us.

“Shut up, Leo,” Vanessa snapped.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” I yelled, stepping slightly to the side, trying to draw her line of sight away from the boy.

Victor chuckled. “And who is this? The nurse? You really should have stayed in Indiana, Ms. Reed.”

“Why did you do it, Victor?” Luca demanded, keeping his hands visible but his body coiled like a spring. “You locked your own daughter in a room. You faked her death. Why?”

“Because you were going to ruin everything, Luca!” Victor spat, his composure cracking. “You wanted to take the family businesses legitimate! You wanted to leave the syndicate. Anna supported you. If you went clean, my investments would have tanked. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Victor looked at Leo.

“I needed an heir I could control. I faked Anna’s death to break you. I planned to raise the boy myself. But Anna... she was clever. She paid Dr. Harris to smuggle the boy out the night he was born. It took me ten years to track him down.”

“And you used Vanessa to poison me,” Luca said, his eyes blazing.

“Just enough to make you weak,” Victor smiled. “To force you to step down due to 'illness.' Once you resigned, I would reveal Leo as your heir, and as his grandfather, I would control the trust.”

“You’re a monster,” I whispered.

Victor looked at me with dead eyes. “Kill the nurse. Kill Luca. Grab the boy.”

Vanessa tightened her grip on her gun.

I didn’t have a weapon. I wasn’t a fighter.

But I was a nurse. And I still had my medical bag strapped across my chest.

As Vanessa’s finger tensed on the trigger, I unzipped the front pocket, grabbed a small glass ampoule of medical-grade ammonia—smelling salts used for fainting patients—and crushed it in my fist.

I hurled the soaked gauze directly at Vanessa’s face.

The overwhelming, burning chemical stench hit her eyes and nose instantly.

Vanessa shrieked, dropping her gun to claw at her burning eyes.

That was all Luca needed.

He moved faster than a human being his size should be able to. He lunged forward, tackling Victor to the ground before the old man could draw his own weapon.

Gunfire erupted.

Luca’s men, who had been pinned outside, suddenly breached the stained-glass windows of the chapel.

“Emma, get down!” Marco shouted, stumbling into the room, blood pouring down his face but his weapon raised.

I grabbed Leo, wrapping my arms around him, and pulled him under the heavy oak pews.

I covered his ears as the deafening sound of automatic gunfire filled the holy space.

“It’s okay, Leo, I’ve got you,” I whispered against his hair. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

The boy buried his face in my chest, trembling violently.

The shootout lasted less than thirty seconds.

Victor’s men were completely outmatched by Marco’s highly trained security team.

When the gunfire stopped, the chapel was filled with smoke and the groans of wounded men.

I peeked over the pew.

Victor’s men were dead or surrendered.

Vanessa was on her knees, coughing, her hands zip-tied behind her back by Marco.

And Victor Bellini was pinned against the altar, Luca’s hands wrapped tightly around his throat.

Luca’s face was twisted in pure, homicidal rage. He was going to snap the old man’s neck.

“Luca, no!” I screamed, scrambling out from under the pew.

He didn’t hear me. He was lost in a decade of grief and betrayal.

“You stole my wife,” Luca hissed, lifting Victor slightly off the ground. “You stole my son.”

“Luca, stop!” I ran up and grabbed his arm. “Look at Leo! Don’t let him see his father become a murderer in a church!”

Luca froze.

He slowly turned his head.

Leo was peeking out from under the pew, staring at Luca with wide, terrified eyes.

The rage in Luca’s face shattered. He let go of Victor’s throat.

Victor collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

“Marco,” Luca breathed heavily, adjusting his cuffs. “Call the police. Give them everything. The insulin, the clinic, Harris’s body. Let Victor rot in a federal prison for the rest of his miserable life.”

Marco nodded, hauling Victor to his feet.

Luca turned his back on his enemies. He walked slowly toward the pew where Leo was hiding.

He dropped to his knees, making himself as small as possible.

“Leo,” Luca said softly, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Leo looked at him. Then, he looked at me.

I offered the boy a small, reassuring nod.

Leo crawled out from under the pew. He stood in front of the massive, terrifying mafia boss.

“Are you really my dad?” Leo asked.

Luca burst into tears. He couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Yes,” Luca sobbed, reaching out with shaking hands. “I’m your dad.”

Leo didn’t hesitate. He threw his arms around Luca’s neck.

Luca buried his face in his son’s shoulder, holding him like he would never, ever let go.