Chapter 13 - LUCA RETURNS
Luca Santoro looked nothing like a ghost.
Ghosts belonged to memory.
Luca was older.
Real.
Gray at the temples.
A scar crossed his left cheek.
His shoulders had narrowed.
His eyes had not changed.
Raffaele stood in the entrance hall.
Neither moved.
Sofia watched from behind the staircase.
Luca saw her first.
His face broke.
“Sofia.”
She stared.
“You remember me?”
He smiled sadly.
“I remembered you every day.”
Raffaele walked forward.
“You let me bury you.”
Luca looked at him.
“You never had a body.”
“I buried you anyway.”
“Yes.”
Raffaele hit him.
Luca took it.
Did not retaliate.
Raffaele hit him again.
Sofia shouted:
“Dad!”
Raffaele stopped.
Luca wiped blood from his mouth.
“You still punch like Emilio.”
Raffaele’s face changed.
Luca knew exactly where to cut.
“Do not.”
“Then don’t.”
Silence.
Raffaele stepped back.
“Beatrice.”
Luca closed his eyes.
That was the first time Raffaele saw grief untouched by strategy.
“Was she your wife?”
“Yes.”
Sofia covered her mouth.
Raffaele’s voice lowered.
“When?”
“Two days before she died.”
“Saint Michael?”
“Yes.”
“Who was there?”
“Thomas Mercer. Catherine.”
“My wife.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Isabella.”
“Elias’s mother?”
“Yes.”
“She was alive?”
“She died the following year.”
Raffaele stared.
“Why wasn’t I there?”
Beatrice had married without her father.
Luca looked at him.
“You know why.”
Raffaele wanted to deny it.
Could not.
“At the time, you would have seen betrayal before love.”
“Yes.”
“Would I have killed you?”
Luca studied him.
“I didn’t know.”
That was worse than yes.
Raffaele sat.
“Tell me the river house.”
Luca did.
Beatrice wanted to take Sofia away from Emilio that night.
Not permanently.
Just until they exposed him.
Emilio had been using Sofia as an unwitting messenger.
Asking her to remember numbers, colors, names because adults ignored children.
Beatrice discovered it.
She confronted Emilio.
He threatened to destroy Luca.
Then Elias arrived.
“Working for Father?”
“With him.”
“Why?”
“Elias wanted me gone.”
“Because of Isabella.”
“Because I had everything he thought belonged to him.”
Luca’s voice hardened.
“Mother. The Santoro name. You. Then Beatrice.”
Raffaele frowned.
“You?”
“You were my brother.”
Raffaele looked away.
Blood or not, they had been.
Luca continued.
“Emilio brought Sofia to the river house because Beatrice would surrender if the child was there.”
“And Catherine?”
“She followed.”
“Why?”
“She knew the plan.”
Raffaele stared.
“My wife knew Father kidnapped our daughter?”
“She didn’t know until after.”
“What happened?”
“Beatrice got Sofia out.”
“You carried her.”
“Yes.”
“Vincent drove.”
“Yes.”
“Then Beatrice returned.”
“Yes.”
“For you.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Gunfire.”
Luca nodded.
“Who shot her?”
Silence.
Raffaele leaned forward.
“Luca.”
He opened his eyes.
“Catherine.”
The room stopped.
Sofia whispered, “Mom?”
Raffaele stared.
“No.”
Luca continued.
“It was an accident.”
“No.”
“Raffaele.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
Catherine arrived with a gun.
She saw Elias holding Beatrice.
Luca fighting Emilio’s man.
Everything happened at once.
Catherine fired at Elias.
Elias moved.
The bullet struck Beatrice.
Raffaele’s wife had shot their daughter.
By accident.
The truth was unbearable because there was no enemy clean enough to carry it.
“What did Catherine do?”
“She broke.”
“Beatrice?”
“Still alive.”
“Then?”
“Elias fired.”
Raffaele’s eyes narrowed.
“At who?”
“At Catherine.”
“Hit?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Emilio shot Elias in the hand.”
The burn.
Not fire.
Gunpowder and damage?
Luca nodded.
“Elias dropped his weapon. I attacked him.”
“And Beatrice?”
“Catherine held her.”
Luca’s voice cracked.
“Beatrice told her it wasn’t her fault.”
Raffaele closed his eyes.
His daughter.
Dying.
Forgiving her mother.
“What happened next?”
“Emilio told Catherine you could never know.”
Raffaele laughed brokenly.
Of course.
“Why?”
“Because he said you would destroy her.”
Raffaele did not answer.
At thirty-three?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
The fact everyone believed it possible was indictment enough.
“Catherine planted the Valenti rose.”
“Yes.”
“To protect herself?”
“To protect me.”
Raffaele looked at Luca.
“She thought if you blamed Valenti, you wouldn’t hunt me.”
“And the war.”
“She didn’t understand what you would do.”
Raffaele stared.
Everyone underestimated the scale of his revenge.
Except Emilio.
Emilio had counted on it.
“Did Father let you escape?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Vincent.”
Raffaele looked toward the doorway.
Vincent stood there.
He had arrived silently.
Luca looked at him.
“He finally chose the right side.”
Vincent lowered his eyes.
Raffaele asked:
“Where were you eighteen years?”
“Moving.”
“Why not contact me after Father died?”
“Elias.”
“He threatened Sofia.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“He found me.”
“How?”
“The ring.”
Beatrice’s wedding ring.
Coordinates.
Not location of Luca.
A dead drop.
Luca continued.
“Beatrice engraved the coordinates to a place where we hid one thing.”
“What?”
“Emilio’s ledger?”
“No documents.”
Raffaele almost laughed.
Good.
“What then?”
“A recording.”
“Of?”
“Emilio and Elias.”
“What do they say?”
“That Beatrice was right.”
“About?”
Luca looked at Sofia.
“That the war was never the real goal.”
Raffaele frowned.
“What was?”
“To create a successor.”
Silence.
“For Father?”
“No.”
Luca looked directly at Raffaele.
“For Elias.”
Raffaele stared.
“Who?”
May you like
Luca’s expression darkened.
“You.”
