Chapter 5
Bianca followed me into the library.
“I was trying to protect Mason.”
I turned.
“From what?”
“Being invisible.”
There.
Jealousy finally showed its face.
Not of Caleb personally.
Of position.
Caleb was the boss’s son.
Mason was the sister’s son.
Everyone knew both.
But every family photograph placed Caleb closer to me.
Every formal dinner seated him near my chair.
Not because he was heir.
Because he was my son.
Bianca interpreted proximity as succession.
Francesca fed it.
“She said if we waited, people would build the future around Caleb just because he’s yours.”
I stared.
“Caleb has never asked for the Romano chair.”
“I know.”
“Neither have I offered it.”
“I know.”
“Then what future were you fighting?”
She started crying.
“The one everyone assumes.”
There.
Assumption again.
The family saw my son.
Some saw disability.
Some saw vulnerability.
Some saw automatic bloodline.
Everybody projected.
Almost nobody asked Caleb what life he wanted.
I had asked.
He wanted to work with animals.
He loved horse barns.
He understood routines.
Remembered every horse’s feeding schedule better than half my managers remembered payroll dates.
He had once told me very clearly:
“I don’t want your job. Too many angry people.”
Reasonable.
I looked at Bianca.
“You built a succession war against someone who wasn’t running.”
She covered her face.
“And you used his disability to make Mason look necessary.”
She whispered:
“I thought Mason could protect him.”
“Then why did protection require hurting him?”
No answer.
May you like
Because it was never primarily protection.
It was positioning.
