Chapter 10 - THE OLD ROMANO HOUSE
The old Romano house had been empty since Enzo died.
Dante refused to live there.
Too many rooms carried voices.
Too many walls remembered fear.
He arrived after dark with Anthony nearby but hidden.
No army.
No Leo.
Dante entered alone.
The main hall smelled of dust and cedar.
Enzo’s portrait remained above the stairs.
Dante had forgotten how much he hated it.
A boy waited in the dining room.
Not Leo.
A teenager.
Sixteen.
Dark-haired.
Nervous.
Dante stopped.
“Who are you?”
The boy swallowed.
“Marco.”
“Marco what?”
“Romano.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“You sure?”
“No.”
The answer surprised him.
A door opened.
Nico entered.
Fifty-three.
Dante saw himself immediately.
Not identical.
Blood was less theatrical than that.
But enough.
Same eyes.
Same shoulders.
Same way of standing as if every room owed space.
“Nico.”
“Dante.”
For several seconds, neither moved.
Nico looked behind him.
“Where is Leo?”
“Home.”
Disappointment.
Then anger.
“You were told—”
“I heard you.”
“You came alone.”
“Yes.”
Nico smiled.
“Still arrogant.”
“No.”
Dante looked around.
“Just tired.”
The answer unsettled Nico more than defiance.
Dante pointed toward Marco.
“Who is he?”
Nico looked at the boy.
“My son.”
Dante stared.
Another Romano heir.
Sixteen.
Older than Leo.
“Mother?”
“Dead.”
“Does he know who you are?”
Marco answered.
“Some.”
Dante looked at him.
Fear in the boy’s face.
Not of Dante.
Of Nico.
Dante recognized it.
Enzo used to produce the same stillness in him.
He turned toward Nico.
“You recreated him.”
Nico’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
“Our father.”
“Do not compare me to him.”
“You make your son afraid to breathe.”
Marco looked down.
Nico’s jaw tightened.
“That boy is strong.”
“No.”
Dante’s voice softened.
“He is scared.”
Nico stepped closer.
“Fear makes boys useful.”
There.
Enzo.
Living.
Nico continued:
“Enzo denied me everything. Name. house. table. He trained you while I learned to hide.”
“And now you train Marco.”
“To survive.”
“To obey.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Dante almost smiled.
“That is what Enzo said.”
Nico’s face darkened.
Javier entered from a side room.
Clara’s husband looked exhausted.
Not restrained.
Dante stared.
“You came willingly.”
Javier nodded.
“Why?”
“To remember.”
“Did you?”
“Some.”
Dante waited.
Javier looked at Nico.
“He showed me where my mother used to bring me.”
Dante understood.
The old Romano house.
Secret visits?
Nico continued:
“Teresa brought Javier here after Matteo survived.”
“Why?”
“To meet Enzo.”
Javier’s face hardened.
Dante looked at him.
“You met my father after the fire?”
“I don’t remember.”
Nico smiled.
“Because Teresa drugged him.”
Javier went still.
“What?”
“To make him forget?”
“No.”
Nico shook his head.
“To keep him calm.”
Dante looked at Javier.
Age fourteen.
Trauma.
Sedation.
Memory gaps.
Possible.
Not certainty.
Nico continued:
“Javier overheard Matteo planning to kill Enzo.”
Javier’s face changed.
“You’re lying.”
“Ask him.”
Nico pointed toward the doorway.
A man appeared.
Burn scars along one side of his face.
White hair.
Walking with a cane.
Javier stopped breathing.
Dante did too.
May you like
Matteo Romano stepped into the dining room.
Alive.
