Chapter 3 - Shadows of Santa Rosalia
By three o'clock in the morning, the Castiglione estate was locked down under total dark protocol. Guards patrolled the perimeter walls, and all external communications were routed through Renzo’s private server. In the master study, Renzo sat opposite his chief of security, Marco, while Ada sat on a plush velvet armchair near the fireplace, sipping warm milk brought by her mother.
Marco placed a thick Manila folder on the mahogany desk. "Boss, we pulled the security logs from Santa Rosalia Private Hospital from tonight, along with the archived files from six years ago. Dr. Julian Vance, the Chief of Obstetrics who pronounced your late wife’s infant dead six years ago, never left the hospital's payroll. In fact, his offshore accounts received substantial monthly wire transfers originating from a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands."
"Trace the shell company," Renzo ordered.
"We did," Marco said quietly, casting a brief glance toward the door. "The ultimate beneficial owner of that account is Valli Holdings. Chiara’s family."
Renzo’s jaw tightened. The pieces began assembling into a grotesque picture. Six years ago, when his wife passed during childbirth, he was told his newborn son had died alongside her. In reality, the child had been secretly removed and kept hidden in an isolated wing of Santa Rosalia, raised in total isolation as collateral—a leverage point to control the Castiglione empire if Renzo ever attempted to sever ties with the Valli family.
"And the baby found tonight?" Renzo asked.
"Dr. Vance’s team attempted to dispose of a second infant born hours ago to a surrogate held at the private wing," Marco explained. "When the surrogate died of complications tonight, the Valli operatives panicked. They realized you were finalizing the family trust transfers to public charities tomorrow, which would permanently strip Chiara of her claim to your estate. They brought the baby here to dispose of him inside the compound, intending to frame an external breach or blame the house staff, ensuring you remained broken and reliant on Chiara’s counsel."
Ada spoke up from her chair, her young voice piercing the heavy atmosphere. "They didn't want him because he looks like you, sir. When I held him under the kitchen light, his eyes opened. They are gray, just like yours."
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Renzo walked over to Ada and knelt before her, setting aside the cold demeanor that had defined him for years. "You saved my son’s life tonight, Ada. You stood your ground when grown adults tried to intimidate you."
"My mother taught me that dirty things belong in the trash, but people never do," Ada said simply.
