I instinctively soothed him.
That was when I noticed Luca watching the motion.
Not with fear anymore.
With horror.
“What?” I whispered.
He turned to the older man.
“Enzo.”
Enzo’s face had gone gray.
“What?”
Luca looked back at me.
“My son hasn’t allowed a woman to hold him since his mother died.”
I swallowed.
“That’s sad, but—”
“Not the nanny. Not my aunt. Not the pediatric nurse he’s known since birth.”
“So?”
“He screams.”
I stared at him.
“He screams exactly like this.”
My arms tightened around Leo.
Luca’s voice became almost inaudible.
“Except with you.”
Twenty minutes later I was in the private dining room behind Aurelia’s wine cellar, wondering whether I had lost my mind.
Greg had tried to follow.
One look from Enzo had changed his plans.
Luca sat across from me.
Leo remained in my arms.
The baby had fallen asleep with one hand fisted in my blouse.
No one seemed eager to separate us.
Especially not Luca.
The photograph lay between us.
“Tell me everything,” I said.
Luca rubbed a thumb against his jaw.
“My sister Clara was ten years older than me. My father controlled all of us, but Clara fought him. She wanted college. Art school. A normal life. He had already arranged a marriage for her.”
I stared.
“This sounds medieval.”
“My father was medieval.”
“What happened?”
“She ran away.”
“With my father?”
Luca hesitated.
“We never knew who the father was.”
“Then why are you in the picture?”
“I found her.”
His gaze moved to the photograph.
“I was eleven. I overheard two men discussing where she was hiding. I took money from my mother, rode three buses across the city and found Clara in that hospital.”
Something in his voice changed.
He was no longer the man people whispered about.
He was a child again.
“She was terrified. She said if my father learned she had a baby, he would use the child to force her back. She made me promise I wouldn’t tell.”
“You were eleven.”
“I kept the promise.”
“For how long?”
“Three days.”
I knew before he said it.
“Your father found out.”
Luca nodded.
“Someone followed me.”
The air left my lungs.
“What happened to her?”
His eyes hardened.
“Our father sent men to bring her home.”
“And?”
“She vanished before they reached her apartment.”
My throat tightened.
“And the baby?”
“Gone.”
I looked down at my own hands.
“Me.”
“We assumed Clara had escaped with you.”
“But she died.”
“That’s what you were told.”
I stared at him.
“You think she’s alive?”
“I don’t know.”
“Twenty-seven years and you don’t know?”
“I spent most of those years looking.”
Anger rose so quickly it surprised me.
“Oh, good. The alleged crime lord was searching for me. That’s comforting.”
“You have every right to be angry.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t be calm. Calm makes this worse.”
His jaw flexed.
“Fine.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“Because your adoption records were sealed and falsified.”
I went still.
“Falsified?”
“My sister disappeared under the name Claire Bennett. There is no official record of Clara Moretti giving birth.”
“But there is of Claire.”
“Yes.”
“And my adoptive parents?”
“Who were they?”
“Thomas and Susan Hayes.”
Enzo inhaled sharply.
Luca looked at him.
