Chapter 2 - The Secret Behind the Sicily Trip
Lucian did not leave the hospital immediately.
He stood near the window for several minutes, his back to me, the divorce papers still in his hand.
Outside, rain continued sliding down the glass.
New York looked gray and distant.
For years, Lucian had been the center of every room he entered. People paused when he spoke. Men twice his size waited for his approval before moving.
But now, he looked powerless.
And I hated that part of me still noticed.
“I will not fight you in front of Nico,” he said at last.
“Good.”
“But I will not disappear from his life.”
“I am not asking you to.”
He turned.
“That is not what those papers say.”
“The papers say you will not make decisions about our son until I know he is safe.”
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Safe from what?”
I looked at him.
“Your enemies.”
His expression became unreadable.
“You think I would expose him?”
“I think you have spent seven years telling me you can control everything. And I think you were in Sicily while someone posted a photograph designed to humiliate me.”
Lucian said nothing.
I continued.
“Who took that photograph?”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“You know.”
“I have people looking into it.”
“That means you know it was not random.”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
Lucian looked toward Elena, then toward Nico.
Finally, he said, “Bianca’s father was not the only reason I went to Sicily.”
My pulse quickened.
“Then what was it?”
“Someone has been moving money through Moretti shipping accounts. Enough money to fund a war between families.”
Elena’s face tightened.
“And Bianca Romano is involved?”
“Her father’s organization is involved.”
“Is she?” I asked.
Lucian hesitated.
That was answer enough.
“She knows more than she claims,” he admitted.
My stomach dropped.
“You went there knowing you might be walking into a trap.”
“Yes.”
“And you left me alone anyway.”
“I had security around you.”
“You had men around me,” I said. “That is not the same thing as being there.”
The room fell silent again.
Lucian’s phone rang.
Marco Vitale.
Lucian answered.
“What?”
His face changed as he listened.
“Where?”
He ended the call and looked at me.
The fear I saw then was real.
“Your penthouse was searched last night,” he said.
Elena stood.
“By who?”
“My security team found a broken lock on the service entrance. Nothing was taken.”
“Nothing?” I repeated.
Lucian looked at Nico.
Then back at me.
“Someone went into the nursery.”
Cold moved through my body.
The nursery.
The room I had spent months preparing.
The pale blue walls.
The crib Roman had—no, Lucian had—ordered from Italy.
The mobile Elena made by hand.
“What did they do?” I asked.
“They left something.”
Lucian’s voice lowered.
“A white rose.”
I stared at him.
White roses were Bianca Romano’s signature.
She wore them in her hair at charity galas. Her father sent them to funerals, courtrooms, and business rivals who needed reminders.
But the flower was not the worst part.
Tied around the stem was a note.
WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, NICO.
My arms wrapped tighter around my son.
For the first time since Lucian arrived, I was not angry.
I was afraid.
Lucian saw it.
“Come with me,” he said.
“No.”
“Serena.”
“I am not leaving this hospital with you.”
“You cannot stay here. Not now.”
“I have Elena.”
“You have a newborn.”
“I have security from my attorney.”
Lucian’s eyes hardened.
“Your attorney’s security will not stop people like the Romanos.”
“And yours will?”
He said nothing.
That silence hurt more than any answer.
Because the truth was simple.
May you like
Lucian’s world had reached my child before Lucian ever held him.
And I had to decide whether the only man capable of protecting Nico was also the man who had brought danger to our door.
