Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the Past
Moving into the guest suite of the main house felt surreal. The rooms were luxurious, featuring plush carpets, large bay windows overlooking the manicured gardens, and a private bath. Lily was over the moon, bouncing on the king-sized bed with her stuffed bear while I unpacked our modest belongings.
The dynamic in the house shifted dramatically overnight. While the dark suit-clad security guards still patrolled the perimeter with unyielding vigilance, the atmosphere inside the living quarters began to soften.
The very next morning, I took Lily and Leo out to the sprawling rear courtyard. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and ocean salt from the nearby bay.
"Okay, kids!" I called out, setting down a basket of colored chalk. "Today we are turning this boring gray patio into a giant canvas."
Lily immediately grabbed a piece of bright pink chalk. "I'm drawing a castle for Big Brother Leo!"
Leo hesitated, sitting tentatively on the wooden bench, watching us with those cautious gray eyes. He still wore his neat, formal clothes—a pressed polo and dark slacks—looking far too stiff for a sunny morning.
I picked up a piece of sky-blue chalk and walked over, sitting beside him. "You know, Leo, pink and blue make the best dragons. Want to help me draw one guarding Lily's castle?"
He looked at the chalk in my hand, then at his shiny leather shoes. "Daddy says... neatness is important."
My heart twinged. "Neatness is fine for paperwork, sweetie. But art? Art is supposed to be messy."
I casually rubbed a small smudge of blue chalk onto his forearm.
Leo gasped, his eyes going wide. He looked down at the blue mark, then up at me in shock. A tiny, mischievous twitch appeared at the corner of his lips. Without a word, he snatched a green piece of chalk from the basket, dropped to his knees, and began fiercely drawing sweeping dragon wings right next to Lily's pink castle walls.
Within an hour, the three of us were covered in colorful chalk dust, laughing as we designed an elaborate fantasy world across the stone tiles.
"What is the meaning of this?"
The deep, booming voice made us all jump. Dominic stood at the edge of the patio, flanked by his second-in-command, a sharp-eyed man named Marco. Dominic was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, ready for a day of managing his empire, but his eyes were fixed on his son, who was currently kneeling in a patch of bright yellow chalk.
Leo stiffened instantly, the chalk sliding from his fingers. "Daddy..."
I held my breath, bracing for an outburst. But instead of scolding the boy, Dominic slowly walked over. He looked down at the sprawling drawing—the pink castle, the green dragon, and a tiny blue figure labeled DADDY with a ridiculously huge sword.
Dominic pointed at the blue figure. "Is that supposed to be me?"
Leo swallowed hard, nodding nervously. "You're... you're protecting the castle."
Dominic knelt down right there on the stone, unmindful of the dusty floor threatening his thousand-dollar trousers. He picked up a piece of red chalk, his thick, tattooed fingers looking absurdly huge around the tiny stick. With surprisingly deft strokes, he drew a massive red shield right in front of the blue figure.
"Every king needs a proper shield," Dominic said quietly, looking up at his son.
Leo stared at the red shield, then at his father. A slow, radiant smile spread across the little boy's face—a smile so genuine it lit up his whole countenance. "Thanks, Daddy!"
Dominic's chest heaved with a quiet, ragged breath. He reached out and awkwardly patted Leo's head, running his hand through the dark curls, leaving a faint streak of chalk in his own hair.
Marco, standing by the patio doors, cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away to hide his shock. The ruthless Don of Boston was playing with sidewalk chalk on a Tuesday morning.
Dominic stood up, turning to me. His expression was serious, but the usual harshness in his eyes had softened considerably. "Isabella. A word."
I stepped away from the kids, following him a few paces toward the garden fountain.
"You're doing magic with him," Dominic said quietly, looking back over his shoulder at Leo, who was now showing Lily how to draw dragon scales. "I haven't seen him touch a toy like that since..." He trailed off, the heavy shadow returning to his face.
"He just needed permission to be a child, Mr. Moretti," I replied softly.
"Dominic," he corrected firmly. "When we are in this house, call me Dominic."
"Dominic," I repeated, the sound of his name feeling strange yet intimate on my tongue.
He leaned in slightly, his towering presence lingering over me. Up close, I could smell his cologne—sandalwood, cedar, and a hint of expensive tobacco. "I have meetings in the city all day. The syndicate is... restless. There are whispers of old rivalries resurfacing." His jaw tightened. "I need you to keep the children inside the estate grounds. Don't leave the perimeter for any reason."
Panic surged through me, instantly reminding me of Leo's secret. "Is there danger?"
Dominic's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "There is always danger in my line of work, Isabella. But lately, certain factions are getting bold. The rival Falcone family has been pushing into our northern territories. I suspect someone inside their organization was involved in the attack that took Elena."
My pulse hammered against my ribs. The man with the snake tattoo. Could he be a Falcone enforcer?
"I'll keep them safe, I promise," I declared earnestly.
Dominic stared down at me, his gaze dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before returning to my eyes. "I know you will. I trust you, Isabella. And I don't trust easily."
He turned and strode back toward Marco, his black trench coat sweeping behind him as they walked out toward the convoy of armored SUVs waiting in the driveway.
May you like
I stood by the fountain, watching his cars pull away. The trust he had just placed in me was overwhelming, but it was accompanied by a terrifying reality: the war that had killed Leo's mother was far from over.
And as the gates of the Moretti estate closed behind Dominic's convoy, I couldn't shake the creeping feeling that the snake was lurking somewhere much closer than any of us realized.
