Chapter 9
The DNA test happened the next morning.
Dominic arranged a private clinic.
I brought Luke in his blue hoodie and clean sneakers.
He held my hand the entire time.
Angelo arrived alone.
No capos.
No driver.
No Milena.
He looked smaller without the mansion behind him.
Luke watched him carefully.
The nurse swabbed Luke’s cheek.
Then Angelo’s.
It took less than a minute to collect what would rewrite ten years.
Afterward, Luke asked for hot chocolate from the vending machine.
Angelo bought it.
His hands were clumsy with the paper cup.
“Careful,” I said.
He froze.
Then gave a sad smile.
“I remember you always said that.”
I did.
Back when he burned toast.
Back when we were young enough to believe love could outrun family.
Luke sipped his drink.
Angelo sat across from him.
“What do you like?” he asked.
Luke looked at me.
I nodded.
“Drawing,” Luke said. “Baseball. Spaghetti. Old cars.”
Angelo’s eyes lit at the last one.
“I have an old Alfa in the garage.”
Luke tried not to look interested.
“What year?”
Angelo smiled.
“Nineteen seventy-two.”
Luke forgot to be guarded for half a second.
“That’s cool.”
Then he remembered the plate.
His shoulders went tight again.
Angelo saw it.
His smile faded.
“Milena was wrong,” he said. “What she said to you was cruel. I should have stopped it before it happened.”
Luke looked down.
“You didn’t know me.”
“No,” Angelo said. “But I know better than to let a child be humiliated.”
I watched him.
That mattered.
Not enough.
But it mattered.
When we left the clinic, Dominic called.
His voice was tense.
“Grace, you need to go home carefully.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
“Milena filed an emergency petition claiming you are attempting to extort the Torrisi family with a fraudulent child.”
Angelo heard the words.
May you like
His face changed.
The war had begun.
