Chapter 4 - SINS OF THE BROTHER
The estate groaned around them, the old wooden beams vibrating from the chaos below.
"Marco's?" Elena repeated, the word tasting like ash. She looked at Camilla, who was staring at the floor, tears cutting through the dust on her cheeks.
"Marco was married," Camilla whispered rapidly. "When I got pregnant, he told me he would kill me before he let a scandal ruin his standing in the family. I was going to run. But Vincent found me."
Vincent pushed Elena gently behind him, keeping his gun raised toward the dark hallway. "I sent them to a safe house in Florence. I wired them money every month. Marco thought she had an abortion and disappeared. If he knew Leo existed, he would kill them both to protect his claim to the family."
"But they look exactly alike," Elena said, looking at Leo's dark hair and gray eyes.
"The Moretti blood is strong," Vincent said grimly. "Marco didn't know for sure until tonight. Arthur must have tipped him off."
Leo tugged on Vincent’s pant leg. He held up the crumpled piece of paper. It was a child’s drawing—stick figures. A tall man, a woman in a red dress, and a little boy.
"I drew this for you," Leo said softly. "For the wedding."
Vincent’s expression shattered. He knelt, wincing as his shoulder pulled, and took the drawing. "Thank you, Leo. It's beautiful. I'm going to put it in my pocket right now, okay?"
He folded it carefully and slid it into his breast pocket, right over his heart.
"We have to move," Vincent said, standing up. "The security panel in the basement connects to the old smuggling tunnels. It's the only way out of the estate that isn't surrounded."
He led them through the servant’s corridors, a maze of narrow, unlit passages behind the main walls. Elena held Leo’s hand. The boy's fingers were tiny and trembling, but he didn't cry. He held onto her with desperate trust.
They reached the heavy oak door leading to the cellar. Vincent keyed in a code, and the door clicked open.
The basement was cavernous, filled with antique wine racks and crates covered in dust sheets. The air was damp and smelled of earth.
"The tunnel entrance is behind the furthest wine rack," Vincent whispered, pointing toward the back wall.
They moved quickly between the towering shelves. Elena could hear the muffled shouts of Marco's men on the floors above. They were searching room by room. It was only a matter of time.
As they rounded the final corner, a blinding beam of light hit them.
"Stop right there."
Vincent froze, shielding Elena and Leo.
Standing in front of the tunnel entrance was Marco. He held a tactical flashlight in one hand and a suppressed pistol in the other. Two heavily armed guards stood behind him.
Marco smiled. It was a terrifying, hollow expression.
"Hello, big brother," Marco said. He shifted the flashlight, landing the beam directly on Leo. Marco's eyes narrowed as he took in the boy's face. The resemblance was undeniable. A living ghost of his own youth.
"I have to admit," Marco said, his voice dripping with malice. "When the old drunk told me you were hiding a bastard, I assumed it was yours. But looking at him... well. He's a handsome kid."
"Let them go, Marco," Vincent said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "This is between you and me. Take the family. Take the estate. Just let them walk into the tunnel."
"You know I can't do that," Marco sighed. "A legitimate heir? Running around out there? My wife's family would ruin me. The commission would strip my title." Marco leveled his gun at Camilla. "I should have handled you myself six years ago."
Vincent raised his gun, aiming at his brother's head. "If you pull that trigger, you're dead before she hits the ground."
"Maybe," Marco said. "But you'd be dead a second later, and my men will finish the bride and the brat."
Marco clicked the hammer back on his pistol. "Drop the gun, Vincent. Or I shoot the boy first."
Elena squeezed Leo’s hand. She felt the heavy silk of her wedding dress pressing against her legs, suffocating her.
Vincent didn't lower his weapon. His hand was remarkably steady, even as blood soaked his shirt.
"I said drop it!" Marco roared.
Before Vincent could move, a deafening gunshot echoed through the cavernous basement.
But it didn't come from Marco.
And it didn't come from Vincent.
Marco’s eyes went wide. He gasped, dropping the flashlight. It clattered to the stone floor, rolling away to cast wild shadows against the wine racks. Marco stumbled forward, clutching his chest, and collapsed.
Behind Marco, stepping out from the shadows of the tunnel entrance, stood Arthur.
Smoke drifted from the barrel of Arthur’s revolver.
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"Nobody threatens my daughter," Arthur said, his eyes wild and completely unhinged. He stepped over Marco’s bleeding body and aimed the gun directly at Leo. "Now. Give me the boy, or I kill him right here."
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