Luca did not.
He stared at his own leg as though it belonged to someone else.
For the first time in seventeen months, his body had obeyed him.
“Sofia.”
“Yes?”
“If anyone asks what happens in this room—”
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
“You don’t know.”
She became still.
Luca leaned closer.
“You tell no one. Not your classmates. Not the staff. Not even your mother.”
Sofia frowned.
“Why?”
Because Luca Rinaldi had survived assassination attempts, betrayals, police investigations, and wars between criminal families.
Because if his doctors were wrong, then someone might simply have made a mistake.
But if multiple elite specialists had reached the same conclusion while his body quietly improved—
someone might have wanted him to remain crippled.
“Because,” Luca said softly, “I want it to be a surprise.”
Sofia smiled.
“All right.”
It was the kindest lie Luca had told in years.
Dr. Pietro Bellini arrived every morning at nine.
He had been Luca’s personal physician for twelve years.
He was sixty, silver-haired, soft-spoken, and so trusted that he had once delivered Matteo’s youngest daughter during a snowstorm when roads to the hospital were blocked.
Bellini supervised Luca’s medication personally.
Pain control.
Muscle relaxants.
Blood pressure treatment.
Nerve medication.
Anticoagulants.
Twenty-one pills a day.
Luca had never questioned them.
Until Sofia mentioned the smell.
The following morning, he watched Bellini differently.
The doctor opened a black leather case and arranged seven tablets beside Luca’s breakfast.
“Any increased pain?”
“No.”
“Spasms?”
“No.”
“Numbness?”
“The same.”
Luca lied smoothly.
Bellini nodded.
He handed him the pills.
Luca swallowed them.
Or appeared to.
Two remained hidden beneath his tongue.
Later, alone, he removed them and placed them inside an envelope.
That afternoon, Sofia found him staring at them.
“What are those?”
“Medicine.”
She leaned close.
Her face changed.
“What?”
“That one.”
She pointed at a small pale-yellow tablet.
“What about it?”
“I found one before.”
Luca’s entire body went still.
“Where?”
“In the laundry room.”
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“How long?”
She counted silently.
“Maybe before Christmas.”
Christmas had been nine months earlier.
“Where exactly?”
“Under Mr. Matteo’s jacket.”
Luca’s voice dropped.
“Explain.”
She looked uneasy.
“Mama told me never to touch things from upstairs.”
“Sofia.”
“I was helping fold laundry. Mr. Matteo’s gray jacket was there. Something fell out when I moved it.”
“A pill?”
She nodded.
“Yellow. Like that.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I kept it.”
“Why?”
She shrugged.
“It had a tiny star on one side. I thought it looked strange.”
Luca stared at the tablet in his palm.
There was indeed a tiny five-pointed imprint.
“Where is the pill now?”
“In my treasure box.”
Luca almost smiled.
“Bring it tomorrow.”
But Sofia did not move.
“What?”
She looked toward the door.
“I can get it now.”
“How?”
“Our apartment is behind the east garden.”
Luca knew that.
He had never visited it.
“Go.”
Sofia left.
She returned fifteen minutes later carrying a pink metal box decorated with faded cartoon horses.
Inside were a seashell, two foreign coins, a button, a bird feather, a broken silver chain—
and one yellow pill.
Luca compared it to the medication Bellini had given him that morning.
Identical.
Except for one detail.
The older pill had a faint blue stain along one edge.
“What is that?”
Sofia leaned closer.
“I don’t know.”
“Was it there when you found it?”
“Yes.”
Luca placed both tablets inside separate envelopes.
Then he called the only person outside his family whom he trusted with his life.
Her name was Dr. Amara Vale.
And Luca Rinaldi had once threatened to kill her.
Five years earlier, Amara had been a forensic toxicologist assisting prosecutors during an investigation into one of Luca’s companies.
