THE SECOND ANIMAL

The bathroom went completely still, except for the sound of the water lapping against the porcelain tub.

Luca gripped the sink counter, his knuckles turning white. He stared at the five-year-old boy with a desperation that broke my heart.

“Your daddy gave this to you?” Luca asked, dropping to his knees beside the tub. He kept his voice incredibly gentle, terrified of scaring the boy again. “Leo, what was your daddy’s name?”

Leo looked down at the bubbles. “Alessandro. But Mommy called him Al. He went away in the fire.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle a gasp.

This wasn't just a kidnapped child. This was Luca’s nephew. The heir to the Moretti family. For three years, Luca had believed his brother’s wife and unborn child had perished in the same tragic car explosion that took his brother's life.

But she hadn't. She had survived. And she had given birth to this boy.

“Where is your mommy now, Leo?” Luca asked, tears welling in his dark eyes.

Leo hugged his knees to his chest. “She went to sleep in the hospital. A man in a dark suit came and got me. He said he was taking me to the red door. But the angry lady took me away and put me in the dark.”

Luca stood up. The grief in his eyes was instantly incinerated by a terrifying, burning rage.

Vanessa hadn't just hidden a child. She had intercepted the true heir to the Moretti empire, likely intending to dispose of him so any future children she had with Luca would inherit everything.

“Finish washing him, Emma,” Luca said, his voice devoid of all emotion. “Dress him in one of my old t-shirts. Feed him whatever he wants. Do not leave this room.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To have a conversation with my fiancée,” Luca replied.

He walked out, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I helped Leo out of the tub, wrapping him in a massive, fluffy white towel. For the first time, a small, shy smile touched the boy's lips.

I found one of Luca’s clean gray t-shirts in a dresser drawer. It hung down to Leo’s ankles like a gown, but it was soft and smelled like expensive laundry detergent.

I ordered a plate of grilled cheese and French fries from the bewildered night kitchen staff, having it left outside the door. Leo ate like he hadn't seen food in a week, feeding every third fry to Bruno, who lay faithfully by his feet.

“Do you like to draw, Leo?” I asked, pulling a notebook and a pen from the desk.

He nodded eagerly.

I sat next to him on the plush rug. “Can you draw me a picture of the place you were supposed to go? The place with the red door?”

Leo gripped the pen in his small fist. He didn't hesitate. He drew a tall, square building. He drew three windows on the top floor. Then, with careful precision, he drew an arched doorway at the bottom.

He handed me the notebook.

“That’s where the man was taking me,” Leo said. “He said a nice lady lived there who would keep me safe until my uncle came.”

I looked at the drawing. My heart stopped beating.

I recognized the building immediately.

It wasn't a mafia safe house. It wasn't a secret compound.

It was a three-story brick walk-up on the south side of Chicago. The exact building where my mother lived. The building she managed, cleaning the hallways and sweeping the steps every morning.

The building with the arched red door.

My hands began to shake. Why was someone bringing Luca Moretti’s secret nephew to my mother’s apartment?

I turned the page in the notebook.

“Leo,” I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “Can you draw the man who took you from the hospital? The one who was supposed to bring you here?”

Leo nodded. He began scribbling furiously.

He drew a tall man. He gave the man a dark suit. But then, he drew something very specific. On the man’s right hand, he drew a massive, square ring with a star in the middle.

I dropped the notebook.

I knew that ring. I saw it every single day when I served breakfast in this mansion.

It belonged to Marco, Luca’s head of security.

Vanessa hadn't acted alone. The man Luca trusted most in the world was the one who had intercepted the child and handed him over to the enemy.

Suddenly, Bruno sat straight up. The dog’s ears pinned back, and a low, rumbling growl vibrated in his chest.

Someone was inserting a key into the bedroom door.

It wasn't Luca. Luca had told me he wouldn't lock us in.

The brass doorknob slowly began to turn.

I grabbed the heavy iron fire poker from the hearth and pushed Leo behind me.