Chapter 3 - The Fortress of Ghosts
We were flown by private helicopter under the cover of darkness to the Vieri estate in the cliffs of Rhode Island. It was a sprawling, gothic fortress surrounded by crashing ocean waves and armed guards every ten feet. For six years, I had dreamed of never seeing this place again. Now, it was the only place on earth keeping my son alive.
Theo was asleep in my arms, exhausted from crying, his little face tucked into my neck.
Matteo was rushed immediately to the estate’s private medical wing. The bullet had missed his kidney by centimeters, but he had lost a lethal amount of blood.
I sat in the grand, dimly lit library, rocking Theo, when Marco walked in. He looked exhausted, his shirt stained with his Don's blood. He placed a silver tray on the table containing hot tea and a glass of milk for Theo.
"He's stable, Signora," Marco said quietly, his posture deeply respectful. "The Don is strong. He is waking up. He’s asking for you. And for... the young master."
"Don't call him that, Marco," I said, my voice trembling. "He’s just Theo. He’s a little boy who likes dinosaurs and apple pie. He doesn't know anything about bloodlines, syndicates, or executions."
"With all due respect, Signora, his name is Theodore Vieri," Marco said softly but firmly. "The moment he spoke to his father in that diner, his old life ended. The other families have already caught wind. The Bratva, the Lucchese family—they are realizing that Matteo is no longer a man with nothing to lose. A man with an heir can be broken. A man with a son has a weakness."
I looked down at Theo's peaceful, sleeping face. I had spent six years running myself into the ground, working double shifts, skipping meals, all to keep him safe from this world. And in a single afternoon, the world had swallowed him whole.
"Take me to Matteo," I said.
We walked down the sterile, cold hallways of the medical wing. Two guards stood outside the heavy oak doors. Inside, Matteo was propped up on pillows, IV lines hooked to his arms, his chest heavily bandaged. He looked pale, but the moment he saw us enter, life rushed back into his features.
He reached out a hand. "Bring him here," he rasped.
I hesitated, then walked over, gently laying the sleeping Theo onto the bed beside Matteo. Matteo’s large, scarred hand hovered over Theo’s back, hesitant, almost afraid that if he touched the boy, he would shatter like a illusion.
Slowly, carefully, Matteo rested his hand on Theo's shoulder. A profound, choked sob escaped the mafia boss’s lips. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the boy's dark curls.
"I thought I was cursed," Matteo whispered, tears leaking from his closed eyes. "Every day for six years, I asked God why He took you from me. I thought it was punishment for the blood on my hands. But He didn't take you. You saved him from me."
"I saved him from the life, Matteo," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Look at you. You're bleeding in a hospital bed because your own family tried to slaughter you. Is this what you want for him?"
Matteo opened his eyes, the warmth fading, replaced by a cold, unyielding resolve. "No. I wanted to protect you by letting you go, Mara. I thought if everyone believed you were dead, you would be safe. But I was wrong. My enemies found you anyway. The only way to keep Theo safe now is to make him untouchable. He must be crowned as my heir. The world must know that to touch him is to invite total annihilation."
"No!" I hissed. "That just puts a bigger target on his back!"
"It’s too late for hiding, Mara!" Matteo growled, wincing as the movement pulled his stitches. "The Russian Bratva has already put a ten-million-dollar bounty on the boy’s head. They know he is my only weakness. If I die, the Vieri empire crumbles, and they take over everything. They want him dead before the week is out."
Just then, Theo stirred. His big gray eyes blinked open. He looked at the IV lines, then at Matteo’s bandaged chest, and finally at his face.
"Are you better, Mr. Eye-Man?" Theo asked sleepily.
Matteo smiled, a genuine, heartbreakingly beautiful smile. "I'm much better, Theo. Because you're here."
"Are you a king?" Theo asked, looking around the massive, luxurious room. "Mama said kings live in big castles, but they have to be very brave because bad guys want their crowns."
Matteo looked up at me, a profound look of understanding passing between us. He looked back at his son. "I am a king, Theo. But I’m an old king. And I’m going to make sure no one ever takes your crown."
Suddenly, the alarms across the estate began to blare. A deafening red light pulsed against the windows.
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The heavy oak doors burst open. Marco rushed in, his face pale, his gun drawn.
Hook / Cliffhanger: "Don Matteo, we’ve been compromised," Marco shouted over the sirens. "The outer perimeter has been breached. They didn't attack from the gates. They landed sea-submersibles on the private beach below the cliffs. They’re already inside the lower levels... and they brought heavy thermite explosives. They aren't trying to kidnap the boy, boss. They’re trying to sink the entire fortress into the ocean."
