Chapter 3 - Shadows Over the Manor
The next morning broke over the Moretti estate not with sunlight, but with a thick, silver fog that rolled off the surrounding pine forests. The mansion felt different—tense, like a war camp waiting for the first wave of an enemy assault.
Upstairs in the master suite, four specialized doctors and three pediatric nurses worked around the clock. The room had been completely sanitized and fitted with state-of-the-art medical monitoring equipment. The child, whom Rocco had officially named Leo after his own grandfather, lay in a warm, temperature-controlled bed. IV lines fed nutrients and detoxifying agents into his fragile veins to cleanse his system of the terrible growth-inhibiting drugs he had been forced to swallow for years.
Rocco stood by the tall window, a glass of untouched black coffee in his hand. He hadn't slept a single second.
A soft knock came at the door. Thomas Russo stepped inside, his expression solemn.
"Don Rocco," Thomas said quietly. "The news has already leaked to the lower ranks. The captains know you found the boy. And they know Valentina is in the basement."
"Let them know," Rocco replied without turning around. "Let every traitor in this city know that the true heir to the Moretti family is alive. What about the Castigliones?"
"Old Man Castiglione called a meeting of the Commission for noon today," Thomas reported, adjusting his coat. "He claims he knows nothing about Valentina’s dealings. He says if she was keeping a child hostage, she acted alone."
Rocco turned around, his eyes burning with intense coldness. "Castiglione paid the clinic bills, Thomas. We found the receipts in her lockbox. He kept my son as a leash around my neck, waiting for the right moment to kill me and use Leo as a puppet ruler."
"What are your orders?"
"Call the captains. Tell them we are attending the Commission meeting," Rocco said. "And prepare the war room."
Before Thomas could answer, a tiny voice spoke from near the door.
"Mr. Moretti?"
Rocco looked down. Sophia was standing in the doorway, holding a small silver tray with a warm plate of buttered toast and a glass of juice. Her mother, Elena, was hovering nervously behind her in the hallway.
"Sophia," Rocco said, his dark features softening immediately. "What are you doing up so early?"
"I brought you breakfast," the little girl said, walking carefully into the room so as not to spill the juice. "And... I wanted to see if the baby was okay."
Rocco knelt down to take the tray from her hands, placing it on a side table. He then offered his hand to her, guiding her gently over to the side of the medical bed.
Sophia stood on her tiptoes, peering over the plastic guardrail. Leo’s cheeks were already showing a tiny hint of color, no longer the ghostly pale shade of the trash bin. He was sleeping peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern.
"He looks bigger today," Sophia said softly.
"He’s fighting," Rocco said, staring at his son. "He has Moretti blood. He survived seven years in the dark, waiting for someone to find him. He survived because you had the courage to bring him to me."
Sophia looked up at the powerful mafia Don. "My mama always says that when you find something broken, you don't leave it in the rain. You carry it inside."
Rocco felt a strange warmth spread through his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced since the day his first wife died. He looked at Elena, who was standing respectfully near the doorway, tears forming in her eyes.
"Elena," Rocco said firmly.
"Yes, Don Rocco?"
"Starting today, you are no longer the housekeeper," Rocco announced. "You are the head of the house staff, with a salary ten times what you are currently earning. And Sophia... Sophia will be educated alongside the finest tutors in the city. She will have her own rooms in the main wing."
Elena gasped, clutching her chest. "Don Rocco, no! We couldn't possibly accept—"
"You saved my son's life," Rocco interrupted, standing tall. "There is no amount of money or protection in this world that can repay that debt. It is settled."
Suddenly, the red warning light on the wall monitor flashed. A siren began to blare faintly from the lower levels of the estate.
Thomas Russo drew his firearm instantly, stepping in front of Rocco. "Don Rocco! The perimeter gates have been breached! Two black SUVs just smashed through the front security checkpoint!"
Rocco’s eyes narrowed into slits of deadly precision. "Castiglione," he growled. "He knows I have the records. He's trying to eliminate the evidence before the Commission meeting."
He turned to Elena and Sophia. "Thomas, take them to the panic room behind the library! Lock the steel doors! No one enters except me!"
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"What about young Leo?" Elena cried, reaching for the child.
"I will handle my son," Rocco said, drawing a heavy silver pistol from his shoulder holster. "Mateo! Secure the hallway! Tonight, we show this city what happens when you touch a Moretti!"
