Chapter 4 - The Inspection
The heavy oak door swung open, and Dr. Marcus Vance stepped into the room.
Dr. Vance was Lorenzo’s personal physician—a cold, impeccably groomed man in his late fifties who wore gold-rimmed glasses and carried a black leather diagnostic case like a priest carrying a sacrament. He was one of the very few men outside the inner circle permitted to move freely through the Duca estate.
Dr. Vance paused, sniffing the air. He frowned slightly, walking over to the foot of the bed.
"Master Lucas," the doctor said in a clipped, clinical tone. "Are you awake?"
Lucas kept his eyes half-closed, clutching the blanket tighter over the lump on his chest where Mateo lay hidden. His heart hammered against his ribs, but he forced his voice to remain steady.
"I'm awake, Dr. Vance," Lucas whispered.
The doctor checked the IV drip, adjusted the flow valve on the morphine pump, and glanced at the monitor. His expression was a mask of professional detachment—the same look he wore every week when he wrote down numbers that only grew worse.
"Your vitals are stable, though low," Dr. Vance noted, shining a tiny penlight into Lucas’s eyes. "Your father is downstairs reviewing shipments. He asked if you had any pain today."
"Tell him... tell him I'm fine," Lucas breathed, his muscles aching with the strain of holding still while Mateo shifted slightly beneath the covers, letting out a soft, milky sigh in his sleep.
Dr. Vance paused, his penlight hovering over the bedside table. His sharp eyes darted toward a small smudge of white flour on the edge of the nightstand—leftover residue from Rosa’s kitchen that Mateo must have tracked up on his socks. The doctor frowned, lifting the edge of the flour smudge with a gloved finger.
"Odd," Dr. Vance muttered to himself. "Domestic staff have strict instructions not to bring provisions into this wing."
Lucas felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead. If Dr. Vance pulled back the blanket, he would find Mateo. The consequences would be catastrophic.
"Dr. Vance," Lucas said, deliberately letting out a ragged, rattling cough that forced the doctor’s attention back to the patient.
The physician sighed, snapping his medical case shut. "Do not strain yourself, boy. Rest. That is all you can do now."
With a final, dismissive nod, Dr. Vance turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
May you like
Lucas let out a long, shuddering breath that felt like it emptied his entire soul. He pulled back the blanket. Mateo was still sleeping peacefully, one fist tangled in Captain’s fur, drooling slightly on the sheet.
Lucas looked down at the toddler, a strange, fierce determination rising within him. For the first time in three years, he didn't feel like a ghost waiting to vanish. He felt alive.
