Chapter 3 - The Godfather’s Betrayal
Dean Caruso arrived at eleven that morning.
He walked into my office smiling.
“Adrian, I heard the kid had a good night.”
I watched him pour himself coffee.
“Better than expected.”
“Finally some good news.”
He sat across from me.
“Maybe those doctors are earning their ridiculous fees.”
I said nothing.
Dean noticed.
“What?”
I pushed a financial report across the desk.
His smile disappeared.
“What’s this?”
“You tell me.”
He read it.
Then leaned back.
“You think I authorized this?”
“Your credentials did.”
“Someone used them.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
I studied him.
Dean and I had grown up together.
We had fought in alleys together.
Built businesses together.
Buried friends together.
He had carried Sophia’s coffin.
Now I couldn’t tell whether he was lying.
“You knew Leo was deteriorating.”
“Everyone knew.”
“You knew the doctors expected him to die.”
His eyes hardened.
“Careful.”
“Why?”
“Because I loved that boy before he was born.”
“Then help me understand why money connected to you paid a nurse to poison him.”
Dean stood.
“I didn't touch Leo.”
The office door opened.
Hannah entered.
Dean looked at her.
“Who’s this?”
“The reason Leo is alive.”
His eyes moved over her uniform.
“The maid?”
“Hannah Collins.”
Dean gave me a disbelieving look.
“You’re interrogating me in front of staff now?”
Hannah spoke.
“I can leave.”
“No,” I said.
Dean laughed once.
“This house has changed overnight.”
“It needed to.”
I slid another document across the desk.
“Sit down.”
He didn’t.
“Adrian, whoever is doing this wants you suspicious of everyone.”
“I already am.”
“Then they’re winning.”
For the first time, his answer sounded convincing.
Marco entered.
“We found something.”
He handed me a tablet.
“Dean’s credentials were accessed remotely.”
Dean stared at me.
“Told you.”
“From where?”
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“An internal terminal.”
“Whose?”
“Your late wife’s office.”
Nobody spoke.
Sophia’s private study had been locked since her death.
I went there immediately.
The seal on the door appeared untouched.
Marco checked the electronic access logs.
“No entry recorded.”
“Then how?”
“Someone bypassed the system.”
Hannah stood behind us.
“Or someone was already inside.”
We looked at her.
She pointed toward the adjoining dressing room.
“Old houses have service passages.”
Dean frowned.
“How would you know?”
“I clean them.”
She walked toward a built-in bookcase and ran her fingers along the wood.
“There’s airflow.”
Marco pulled the bookcase.
Nothing.
Hannah pressed a decorative brass panel.
Click.
The bookcase moved.
Dean swore quietly.
Behind it was a narrow service corridor from the mansion’s original construction.
I had lived there six years and never known it existed.
Marco entered first.
We followed.
The passage led toward the west staircase.
On the floor lay a disposable glove.
Fresh.
Someone had been there recently.
Then Hannah noticed something else.
A small envelope wedged behind a pipe.
She reached toward it.
“Don’t touch it,” Marco said.
He put on gloves and removed it.
My name was written across the front.
Inside was a photograph.
Sophia.
Taken outside the charity gala on the night she died.
On the back were six words.
THE WRONG ROSSI DIED THAT NIGHT.
Dean’s face changed.
“Adrian…”
I stared at the photograph.
The bombing hadn’t only been revenge.
Someone had wanted me dead.
And now they wanted Leo gone too.
Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression tightened.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“The nurse is gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“One of the guards was found unconscious.”
Dean reached for his weapon.
I stopped him.
“Don’t.”
He looked at me.
“You still think it’s me?”
“I think someone wants me to.”
A scream echoed from upstairs.
Hannah went white.
“Leo.”
She ran.
I was behind her instantly.
We reached the nursery.
The crib was empty.
The window stood open.
Dr. Warren was on the floor, conscious but bleeding from his forehead.
“Where is he?”
Warren pointed toward the hallway.
“Man… maintenance uniform…”
Hannah spun around.
“The service passage.”
We ran.
Marco radioed security.
“Seal every exit!”
A faint cry came from behind the wall.
Hannah stopped.
“There!”
She opened the hidden panel.
A man was moving through the passage with Leo wrapped against his chest.
I raised my weapon.
“Stop.”
He turned.
He had a knife against Leo’s blanket.
“Back up.”
Hannah stepped in front of me.
“Give me the baby.”
The kidnapper laughed nervously.
“Move.”
“Leo is hungry.”
“Hannah,” I warned.
She ignored me.
“He’s medically fragile. You run with him, he could stop breathing.”
The man hesitated.
She took another step.
“You don’t want a dead infant in your arms.”
“Stay back.”
Leo cried.
The kidnapper glanced down.
That was his mistake.
Marco struck from the side.
The knife fell.
I grabbed Leo.
The man hit the floor beneath two guards.
Hannah immediately checked my son.
“He’s okay.”
I held him against me.
For the first time since he was born, I truly held him.
Not for a photograph.
Not while a doctor instructed me.
I held my son because someone had tried to take him.
Leo’s tiny fingers closed around my shirt.
Hannah looked at me.
“He knows you.”
I swallowed.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yes, he does.”
“How?”
“Because he stopped crying.”
I looked down.
She was right.
Behind us, Marco dragged the kidnapper upright.
“Who hired you?”
The man spat blood onto the floor.
“You’re already dead, Rossi.”
I stepped closer.
“Who hired you?”
He smiled.
Then looked directly at Hannah.
“Ask her boyfriend.”
Hannah froze.
“Eric?”
May you like
The man laughed.
“You really thought that staircase was an accident?”
