Chapter 3 - The Fortress on the Sound
An hour later, I found myself in the back of a bulletproof Mercedes Maybach, speeding down the Long Island Expressway through a pouring rainstorm.
Leo was asleep on my lap, his small head resting against my knee, breathing softly. On the opposite side of the plush leather bench sat Ricardo, staring out the tinted window at the passing highway lights. The silence between us was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension of two people from completely different worlds.
"You don't carry yourself like a waitress," Ricardo noted suddenly, not turning his head.
"I used to be a nursing student at Columbia," I replied, smoothing the blanket over Leo’s shoulders. "I had to drop out during my senior year when my mother was diagnosed with early-stage renal failure. I took whatever jobs paid immediate cash."
Ricardo turned his head slowly, assessing me. "No father?"
"Died when I was seven. Industrial accident."
"So you know what it feels like to lose a parent young."
"I know what it feels like to feel like the world is an unsafe place," I corrected gently. "That’s why Leo cries. He doesn't just miss his mother, Mr. Moretti. He feels like the sky could fall down at any second, and nobody is protecting him."
Ricardo’s jaw tightened. A dark vein throbbed at his temple. "I protect him. I have twenty armed men stationed around him at all times."
"Men with guns don't make a three-year-old feel safe," I said boldly. "They make him feel like he’s in constant danger."
The bodyguard in the front passenger seat, Frank, stiffened, glancing at the rearview mirror as if waiting for Ricardo to execute me. But Ricardo didn't lash out. He simply turned his gaze back to the rain-slicked window.
"We will see how your theories hold up at the house," he muttered.
Twenty minutes later, the Maybach pulled up to massive, twelve-foot iron gates topped with security cameras and armed guards. The gates swung open, revealing a sprawling, stone estate overlooking the dark waters of the Long Island Sound. It looked less like a home and more like a modern medieval fortress.
When the car stopped under the grand portico, I carefully scooped Leo into my arms. He stirred slightly, burying his face into the crook of my neck, his tiny hands gripping my shirt collar.
A stoic housekeeper in a crisp uniform met us at the grand mahogany doors. "Welcome back, Mr. Moretti. I have prepared the guest room next to the master suite as requested."
"Thank you, Mrs. Gable," Ricardo said, taking his coat off. "Show Clara to the room. Make sure she has everything she needs."
I carried Leo up the grand marble staircase, following the housekeeper down a carpeted hallway lined with expensive, dark artwork. Room 204 was enormous, featuring a plush king-sized bed, a adjoining nursery room connected by an archway, and massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean.
I laid Leo down in the nursery crib, tucking him under a soft wool blanket. As I pulled back, his little eyes fluttered open.
"Shh," I whispered, sitting on the floor beside the crib so I was at his eye level. "I'm right here, Leo. You're safe."
He stared at me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, before his eyes closed again.
May you like
I stayed on the cold floor, resting my chin on the crib rail, until I was sure he was deep in sleep. When I finally stood up and turned around, I nearly gasped.
Ricardo was standing in the doorway, quiet as a shadow, watching us.
