Chapter 2
I did not let go of Helena’s wrist.
Not hard enough to hurt her.
Just hard enough to stop her from pretending she still controlled the room.
My bodyguards, Matteo and Rocco, had already moved closer.
They knew my face.
They knew the silence before my anger became action.
Helena tried to laugh.
“Children lie when they’re afraid of consequences.”
I turned toward Leo.
“Did you eat today?”
His eyes lowered.
That was enough.
I looked at Matteo.
“Bring his lunchbox.”
Matteo crossed the garage and opened the small blue box on the shelf.
Inside was a sandwich.
Fruit.
A juice.
Untouched.
Beside it was a folded note.
Matteo read it and looked at me.
His jaw tightened.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He handed it over.
No food until the car shines.
Signed with a sharp H.
My wife’s handwriting.
The garage seemed to shrink around me.
Helena pulled her wrist free.
“That was a lesson.”
I turned the note toward her.
“This is evidence.”
Her smile vanished.
“Evidence of what? Parenting?”
“You are not his mother.”
“I am your wife.”
“For now.”
Her lips parted.
Leo made a tiny sound behind me.
I hated that he heard it.
But I hated more that he had needed to hear it.
I knelt and put my hands on his shoulders.
“Did she make you do this before?”
He looked at Helena.
She lifted her chin.
I gently turned his face back to mine.
“Only me and you.”
His bottom lip trembled.
“When you go to meetings.”
“How many times?”
He swallowed.
“A lot.”
My chest burned.
“What else?”
Helena stepped forward.
“That is enough.”
Rocco moved between her and Leo.
I did not look away from my son.
“What else, Leo?”
He whispered, “She says if I tell you, you’ll send me away like Mom.”
The words hit the floor like glass.
My first wife, Sofia, had died four years ago.
I had never sent her anywhere.
I had buried her with my own hands shaking.
I stood slowly.
Helena backed up one step.
May you like
“Carmine, he misunderstood.”
“No,” I said. “I did.”
