Chapter 5 - The Heir Apparent
Three months passed with the terrifying speed of an avalanche.
The Moretti estate, once a mausoleum of cold marble and silent guards, had been quietly, irrevocably conquered by a three-year-old. The library floor was now permanently strewn with plastic dinosaurs and wooden blocks. The grand piano in the music room had a collection of crayon drawings taped to its polished legs. Even Marco, the most ruthless enforcer in the tri-state area, had been seen crawling on his hands and knees behind the living room sofa pretending to be a runaway steam train while Lucas shrieked with laughter.
Alessandro sat behind his massive mahogany desk in the second-floor study, staring at a portfolio of dock expansion documents. But his eyes kept drifting to the doorway.
From down the hall came the rhythmic clack-clack of plastic wheels on hardwood, followed by high-pitched giggles and Elena’s scolding voice: "No running in the gallery, young man! Those vases are older than your great-grandparents!"
The door swung open, and Lucas marched in, wearing a miniature black blazer that Alessandro had custom-made by his own tailor in Milan. He was holding a plastic stethoscope to his chest.
"I'm a doctor," Lucas announced solemnly, stopping in front of the desk. "You're sick, mister. You need candy."
Alessandro put down his pen, leaning back in his leather chair with a faint smile. "Is that so, Doctor? What kind of candy?"
"Chocolate kind," Lucas declared, climbing uninvited into the leather chair and scrambling up onto Alessandro’s lap with the effortless familiarity of someone who owned the place. He pressed the plastic stethoscope against Alessandro’s sternum. "Your heart is beating too fast. You need to play blocks."
Alessandro wrapped his arms around the boy, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo and fresh laundry that always seemed to linger around him. "My heart beats fast because I have a very busy job, Lucas."
"My job is blocks," Lucas retorted, pointing toward the corner of the study where a towering fortress was half-built. "Come on."
Before Alessandro could answer, the internal intercom on his desk buzzed sharply.
Marco’s voice crackled through the speaker: "Boss. You need to come down to the security gate. We have an uninvited guest." siapa."
Alessandro’s expression hardened instantly, the warmth vanishing from his face as if a switch had been flipped. He set Lucas down gently on the plush rug. "Stay here with Elena, buddy. I'll be right back."
When Alessandro reached the iron gates at the front of the estate, a sleek black town car was idling outside. Standing by the driver's side was a woman in an emerald-green trench coat, her blonde hair pulled back into a sophisticated chignon.
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It was Catherine Vance — the woman who had walked out of this very house three years ago, taking with her half of Alessandro’s social circle and all of his remaining illusions about romantic love.
"Hello, Alessandro," she said, stepping closer as the gates buzzed open. "It's been a while."
