The Man In The Shadows Speaks

“Whose child is that?”

Luca repeated the question.

His tone wasn’t louder, but it carried a weight that made the damp air in the shed feel unbreathable.

Vanessa’s eyes darted toward the open door.

Marco shifted his weight, subtly blocking her exit.

There were forty elite guests drinking champagne inside the warm mansion, completely unaware that the empire’s foundation was crumbling in the mud outside.

“It’s fake,” Vanessa stammered.

Her voice lacked its usual icy authority.

“Elias doctored that photo. He’s trying to poison you against me.”

Luca gently took the photograph from my hand.

He held the flashlight over it.

“This paper is a decade old, Vanessa. The hospital logo in the background is Saint Jude’s. The maternity ward there closed nine years ago.”

He looked up at her.

“You told me you couldn’t have children.”

Vanessa crossed her arms, shivering violently.

“I can’t. Not anymore. Because of him.”

She pointed a trembling finger at Elias.

Elias coughed again.

Atlas nudged the old man’s arm, whining softly.

I knelt down, pulling a clean handkerchief from my apron, and pressed it to Elias’s bleeding wrist.

He nodded at me, a silent thank you.

“Eleven years ago,” Elias said, his voice scraping like sandpaper.

“Michael found out. He found out you were feeding the family’s shipping routes to your father.”

The Chicago Syndicate.

Even a maid like me knew about the Bellini family.

They were Luca’s biggest rivals.

The engagement between Luca and Vanessa was supposed to be a peace treaty. A merging of empires.

“Michael confronted her,” Elias continued.

“He told her the engagement to you was off. He told her to pack her things.”

“Shut up!” Vanessa screamed.

“But she couldn’t leave,” Elias said softly.

He looked at the photograph in Luca’s hand.

“Because she had just given birth. To a boy. A boy your father swore would never inherit the Moretti name.”

Luca went perfectly still.

“My father... knew about the child?”

“He delivered the ultimatum,” Elias said.

“Leave the boy with the Morettis, or leave in a body bag. Your father wasn’t a kind man, Luca. But he protected his blood.”

Luca looked at Vanessa.

“Is the boy mine?”

Vanessa stared at him.

Tears finally spilled over her dark eyelashes, mixing with the rain.

She didn’t answer.

“Vanessa.”

Luca’s voice cracked like a whip.

“Is he mine?”

“No.”

The word came out as a sob.

“He’s not yours.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

If the child wasn’t Luca’s... whose was it?

Elias looked at me.

“Emma. The watch.”

I jumped.

I had forgotten about the watch Atlas had brought inside.

Luca pulled it from his damp pocket.

“The winding crown,” Elias instructed. “Pull it out all the way. Then twist it counter-clockwise.”

Luca didn’t hesitate.

He pulled the silver crown. It clicked.

He twisted it backwards.

The back casing of the watch popped off, revealing a hollow compartment beneath the gears.

Inside was a tightly rolled piece of parchment.

Luca pulled it out.

It wasn’t a letter.

It was a child’s drawing.

Crayon on rough paper.

It showed three stick figures.

A tall man in a black hat.

A little boy holding a blue balloon.

And a dog.

A dog with one bent ear.

Atlas.

At the bottom of the drawing, written in messy, uneven letters, was a name.

Leo.

But it was the words written above the boy’s head that made the air leave my lungs.

Me and Daddy.

Luca stared at the drawing.

His breathing stopped.

He looked at the stick figure of the man in the black hat.

Michael Moretti was famous for his black fedora. He wore it everywhere.

“My father,” Luca whispered.

He looked at Vanessa, his eyes wide with a horrifying realization.

“You and my father?”

Vanessa took a step back, shaking her head frantically.

“It wasn’t like that, Luca. You were away at college! He was lonely. I was terrified of my family. He offered me protection.”

“He was my father!” Luca roared.

The sound echoed off the stone walls.

Even Marco flinched.

“He took him from me!” Vanessa cried out, dropping the act completely.

“Michael took Leo and hid him! Then he threatened to tell you everything. I had no choice, Luca. I had to stop him.”

Luca stepped toward her.

“Where is the boy now?”

“I don’t know!”

Vanessa fell against the doorframe.

“Michael hid him before he died. I’ve spent eleven years searching. Three days ago, my men found Elias in Boston. I brought him here to make him talk.”

Elias looked up at Luca.

“I never told her. I promised Michael I’d protect the boy.”

Luca knelt beside Elias.

“Where is my brother?”

Elias reached into his torn pocket.

He didn’t pull out a map or an address.

He pulled out a heavy brass key with a red tag.

He handed it to me.

I looked at the red tag.

My blood ran cold.

It bore the logo of the bank where I deposited my meager paychecks.

But more importantly, it had a specific locker number.