Chapter 12 - Shadows of the Past
The heavy oak doors of the Moretti estate swung open, letting in the cool, crisp autumn breeze of Brooklyn. Clara stood by the grand staircase, watching the morning light cut through the stained-glass windows. For the past week, life in the mansion had been a delicate, high-stakes dance.
Leo was no longer screaming. In fact, the three-year-old had developed an absolute attachment to Clara, following her around like a tiny shadow with his small fingers latched onto the hem of her apron.
Rico descended the stairs, his tailored charcoal suit fitting his athletic frame impeccably. He paused on the second-to-last step, his icy blue eyes fixing on Clara and the boy.
"He's eating his vegetables," Clara noted smoothly, pouring a cup of black coffee. "A miracle considering your parenting style consisted of throwing threats at him."
Rico walked over, a faint, rare smile touching the corners of his mouth. "My parenting style was survival, Clara. But clearly, you have a method I don't."
"That's because I treat him like a child, not a criminal syndicate," Clara retorted, handing Leo a small glass of apple juice.
Suddenly, the heavy security intercom buzzed violently by the front gates. The estate's chief guard, a hulking veteran named Marcus, rushed into the foyer.
May you like
"Boss," Marcus said, breathing heavily. "We have an unannounced arrival at the outer perimeter. It's Salvatore Vance. Clara’s uncle."
Clara’s coffee cup slipped from her hand, shattering against the marble floor. The blood drained entirely from her face. Salvatore wasn't just her uncle; he was a ruthless loanshark tied directly to the remnants of the Petrov syndicate—the very man who had sold her family out years ago.
Related Stories
