Chapter 2 - THE ROOM UPSTAIRS
Carmine did not stay for the search.
Leo came first.
That was not how Carmine had lived for most of his adult life.
Business first.
Threats first.
Enemies first.
Family was supposed to be protected by the fact that Carmine handled everything else.
For years he had believed that was the same as being present.
Walking through the estate behind his son, he understood how badly he had lied to himself.
Nora Whitman, the head housekeeper, met them near the stairs.
She had served the Bellucci family for seventeen years.
When she saw Leo, her face crumpled.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Carmine stopped.
“You knew.”
Nora looked at him.
The accusation was worse because he whispered it.
“Mr. Bellucci—”
“You knew.”
“I knew Helena was being strict.”
“Strict?”
Nora lowered her eyes.
Carmine looked toward Leo.
The boy was pressing his face into the bodyguard’s shoulder.
“Where has he been sleeping?”
Nora did not answer.
Carmine’s stomach turned cold.
“Show me.”
She led him past Leo’s nursery.
Carmine stopped.
The door was closed.
He opened it.
The room was perfect.
Fresh sheets.
Toy chest.
Books.
Stuffed animals.
A small wooden train Carmine had brought home from Boston.
Untouched.
Dust lay on the wheels.
Carmine looked at Nora.
“Where?”
She continued down the corridor.
Past the guest rooms.
Down a narrow staff staircase.
The room was on the service floor.
Small.
Bare.
A cot.
One blanket.
A plastic cup.
No toys.
Carmine stood in the doorway.
His son’s little shoes sat beneath the bed.
One had a hole near the toe.
Carmine had bought Leo six pairs of shoes that year.
“Why?”
Nora’s voice shook.
“Helena said the main nursery made him difficult.”
“And you listened?”
“She said you approved it.”
Carmine slowly turned.
“You believed I ordered my three-year-old son into a servant’s room?”
Nora began crying.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because everyone was afraid.”
“Of Helena?”
Nora hesitated.
That was the answer.
But not the whole answer.
“Who else?”
“I don’t know.”
Carmine stepped closer.
“Nora.”
“She would receive calls.”
“From whom?”
“We never knew. Afterward she would become different.”
“How?”
“Frightened.”
The word caught his attention.
Helena did not frighten easily.
“What did she tell the staff?”
“That Leo needed to learn he wasn’t special.”
Carmine closed his eyes for a moment.
“And food?”
Nora looked toward the floor.
“She ordered meals withheld when he refused chores.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know.”
“You fed him.”
It was not a question.
Nora began crying harder.
“When I could.”
Carmine looked at the cot.
“How long?”
“Three weeks.”
Three weeks.
Carmine had been home during part of that time.
Sleeping two floors above.
Leaving before Leo woke.
Returning after he slept.
Letting Helena tell him the boy was becoming difficult because he missed his mother.
Carmine had accepted the explanation because it allowed him to keep moving.
That realization cut deeper than betrayal.
He had not failed Leo because someone outsmarted him.
He failed because he had stopped looking.
The bodyguard brought Leo into the room.
Carmine crouched.
“Do you sleep here?”
Leo nodded.
“Why?”
“Auntie says my room is for good boys.”
Carmine could not speak for several seconds.
Then:
“You’re coming upstairs.”
Leo looked frightened.
“Aunt Helena—”
“Helena doesn’t decide anymore.”
“Will she be mad?”
“Yes.”
Leo stared at him.
Carmine almost smiled.
“But that is her problem.”
He lifted his son.
As they climbed the stairs, Leo whispered:
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“You came back.”
Carmine’s hand tightened around him.
“I did.”
“Auntie said you didn’t want me.”
Carmine stopped halfway up the staircase.
Behind him Nora began to cry again.
He looked at his son.
“Who told you that?”
Leo looked down.
“Aunt Helena.”
Carmine pressed his forehead against Leo’s.
“She lied.”
The boy thought about this.
“Why?”
Carmine had answers for debt.
For betrayal.
For murder.
He had no answer simple enough for a three-year-old.
“Because sometimes grown-ups say ugly things when something inside them is ugly.”
Leo accepted that more easily than Carmine did.
Later, after food and a bath, the boy fell asleep in his real bed with one hand holding Carmine’s sleeve.
Carmine remained there.
His phone vibrated four times.
He ignored it.
On the fifth call, Anthony Russo entered quietly.
“Boss.”
Carmine looked toward Leo.
Anthony lowered his voice.
“We found something in Helena’s car.”
Carmine carefully loosened his son’s fingers.
“What?”
Anthony’s expression told him it was not money.
Not drugs.
Not a weapon.
“The scratch Leo made?”
“Yes.”
“It was directly over a hidden latch.”
Carmine stood.
“Hidden compartment?”
Anthony nodded.
“What was inside?”
Anthony hesitated.
Carmine’s eyes narrowed.
“Tell me.”
“A necklace.”
Carmine waited.
May you like
Anthony swallowed.
“Rosalie’s.”
