Chapter 2 - The House Above Palermo
Luca Santoro's home was not what Elena expected.
She had imagined walls.
Guards.
Cold marble.
A place designed to intimidate.
There were certainly gates.
Three of them.
Each opened only after cameras recognized the SUV.
But beyond the final gate stood a three-story villa built from honey-colored Sicilian stone, surrounded by olive trees and climbing jasmine.
Warm lights glowed behind tall windows.
Rain streamed from tiled roofs.
The house seemed old enough to remember kingdoms.
"Where are we?" Elena asked.
"Home," Luca answered.
That wasn't what she meant.
The SUV stopped.
Luca stepped out first.
Two men immediately approached.
They spoke quietly to him.
Elena couldn't hear everything, but one phrase reached her.
No witnesses.
Luca's expression changed.
"Later," he said.
Matteo woke.
"Elena?"
"I'm here."
His fingers tightened around hers.
Luca opened their door himself.
That seemed to surprise the men outside.
"Bring him inside."
Matteo refused to move unless Elena moved with him.
So she did.
Inside, the villa became even stranger.
There were marble floors and antique furniture, yes.
But there were also family photographs.
Books stacked beside chairs.
A child's wooden train abandoned beneath a table.
Fresh flowers.
A half-completed drawing of a dinosaur taped crookedly to an enormous refrigerator in a side room.
It didn't feel like the home of a monster.
That disturbed Elena more than if it had.
An elderly woman approached.
She had silver hair pinned neatly behind her head and wore a simple black dress.
Her eyes went immediately to Matteo.
"Madonna santa."
She rushed forward.
Matteo buried himself against Elena.
The woman stopped.
Then looked at Elena.
Very carefully.
Luca removed his wet jacket.
"Signora Russo, this is Elena Rossi."
Elena's attention snapped toward him.
"I never told you my last name."
Luca met her gaze.
"No."
"Then how do you know it?"
One of the bodyguards looked away.
That answer was enough.
Elena stared at Luca.
"You investigated me?"
"I identified the woman who was sitting inside a vehicle with my son."
"During a fifteen-minute drive?"
"Fourteen."
Elena almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the alternative was shouting.
"That's completely insane."
Signora Russo raised one eyebrow.
Luca appeared almost amused.
"You'll find Palermo has different standards."
"I have standards too."
"I've noticed."
Matteo tugged Elena's hand.
"Please don't fight."
Her anger disappeared.
"I'm not fighting."
"You look like Papa when he says he's not angry."
Luca glanced away.
One of the bodyguards coughed to hide a laugh.
Elena looked down at herself.
Her blouse was soaked.
Her skirt was wet.
Her knees were dirty.
Her hip was beginning to ache badly.
Signora Russo noticed.
"Come."
"I'm fine."
"You are dripping on a seventeenth-century floor."
Elena looked at the marble beneath her.
"Oh."
"Now you come."
There was no arguing with Signora Russo.
Apparently not even Luca tried.
Upstairs, she led Elena toward a large bedroom.
Matteo followed.
"This isn't necessary," Elena said.
"It is."
Signora Russo opened a wardrobe.
Inside hung several dresses, trousers, shirts, and sweaters.
All new.
Elena stopped.
"Whose are these?"
"Yours."
Her stomach tightened.
"I'm sorry?"
"Don Luca had them brought."
"When?"
"Before you arrived."
Elena turned slowly.
The drive had lasted less than thirty minutes.
"Those are my size."
"Yes."
"And exactly the kind of clothes I wear."
Signora Russo said nothing.
"How?"
The elderly woman gave her an almost sympathetic look.
"Don Luca is a man who prefers information before uncertainty."
"That's not an answer."
"No. It is advice."
Elena looked at Matteo.
The boy had climbed onto a padded bench near the bathroom.
His wet shoes dangled above the floor.
"Can he stay?"
Signora Russo seemed surprised.
"He has his own room."
Matteo immediately shook his head.
"I stay."
Elena crouched.
"Just while I change."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Only then did Matteo relax.
Signora Russo watched them.
"He does not trust easily."
"He's been through something frightening."
"Before tonight."
There was something in her voice.
Elena waited.
Signora Russo sighed.
"His mother died when he was three."
Elena looked at Matteo.
The boy was tracing circles on the fabric beneath his fingers.
"He remembers her?"
"He remembers pieces."
"What happened?"
Signora Russo's expression closed.
"That is not my story to tell."
Then she left.
Elena changed into dark trousers and a soft gray sweater.
The clothes fit perfectly.
That bothered her.
When she emerged, Matteo was looking at a framed photograph on the bedside table.
It showed the Sicilian coastline.
"Why did you leave home?" Elena asked gently.
Matteo became still.
"I wanted Mama."
Elena sat beside him.
"What do you mean?"
"I wanted to visit her."
"Her grave?"
He nodded.
"Papa said no."
"Why?"
"Because I can't go anywhere."
Matteo frowned.
"There are always men."
His voice became quieter.
"They watch me when I eat. They watch me when I go to school. They watch me in the garden."
"Your father is trying to protect you."
"From what?"
Elena didn't have an answer.
Matteo looked at her.
"So I went myself."
"In that rain?"
"I know the road."
"But you got lost."
His lower lip trembled.
"I thought I knew."
Elena placed an arm around him.
"The important thing is you're safe."
Matteo leaned against her.
"You weren't watching me."
"What?"
"You didn't know me."
He looked up.
"You just helped."
The simplicity of it hurt.
A knock came.
Luca stood in the doorway.
He had changed into another black shirt and dark trousers.
Without the soaked suit jacket, the tattoos on his forearms were more visible.
His eyes went first to Matteo.
Then Elena.
"What did he tell you?"
Elena stood.
"Enough."
Luca entered.
"Matteo."
His son looked down.
"You left without telling anyone."
"I wanted Mama."
Luca's entire face changed.
Only for a moment.
Then control returned.
"We have discussed this."
"You always say later."
"Because it isn't safe."
"Nothing is safe!"
The boy's shout echoed through the room.
Everyone became silent.
Matteo's eyes filled with tears.
"I hate all the men. I hate the gates. I hate people following me."
Luca stood frozen.
"I just wanted Mama."
Then he ran to the bathroom and closed the door.
Elena looked at Luca.
The feared Luca Santoro suddenly seemed completely lost.
"Go to him," Elena said.
"He doesn't want me."
"You're his father."
"He wants you."
"That doesn't mean he doesn't need you."
Luca looked toward the closed door.
Then back at her.
"You speak very confidently about things you don't understand."
Elena felt her temper rise.
"And you hide behind authority because you're terrified."
His eyes sharpened.
"Careful."
"No."
That word seemed to stop him.
"Your son almost died tonight because he wanted to visit his mother and didn't believe he could ask you."
Luca's jaw clenched.
"You know nothing about our lives."
"Then tell him."
Luca said nothing.
Elena stepped closer.
"Children fill silence with their own explanations. Usually terrible ones."
He stared at her.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Luca walked to the bathroom.
He knocked.
"Matteo."
Silence.
Luca lowered his voice.
"Open the door, figlio mio."
Another pause.
Then the lock clicked.
Luca disappeared inside.
Elena sat on the bed.
Minutes passed.
She considered leaving.
She should leave.
Instead she looked out the window.
The rain was weakening.
Far below, Palermo glowed beneath the clouds.
Then she noticed movement.
A man stood near the outer gardens.
Not one of the men she had seen earlier.
He was looking up.
Directly toward her window.
The instant Elena saw him, he stepped backward into darkness.
Her stomach tightened.
She walked quickly to the hall.
One of Luca's guards stood near the stairs.
"There was someone outside."
The guard frowned.
"Where?"
"By the garden wall."
Within seconds, radios crackled.
Doors opened.
Men moved.
Luca came from the bedroom.
"What happened?"
Elena pointed toward the window.
"I saw someone."
His expression became cold.
"Describe him."
She did.
Luca looked toward one of the guards.
The man's face turned pale.
"What?" Elena asked.
Nobody answered.
"Luca."
His eyes returned to hers.
"That description matches someone who should not be here."
"Who?"
Luca hesitated.
Then said the name.
"Marco Bellini."
One of the guards spoke quietly.
"Bellini's supposed to be in Rome."
Luca's gaze moved toward the dark grounds.
"No."
His voice became dangerously calm.
"He wanted us to think he was."
Elena's skin prickled.
"Who is he?"
Luca didn't answer immediately.
When he finally did, the warmth that had appeared while speaking to Matteo was gone.
"Someone who knew Matteo was missing before I did."
And suddenly Elena understood.
Matteo hadn't simply wandered into danger.
May you like
Someone may have been waiting for him to do exactly that.
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