Chapter 6
Life at the Rinaldi estate became war with snacks.
The boys accepted Lucia as their leader by the third day.
By the fourth, they had formed what Marco called a “council.”
By the fifth, I realized the council existed mostly to decide who stole cookies.
Lucia made rules.
Marco challenged every rule.
Nico broke rules for sport.
Alessandro documented rules in crayon.
Tommy followed rules until someone cried.
Then he abandoned all structure to comfort them.
I learned their rhythms.
Marco needed choices, or he turned everything into battle.
Nico needed motion, or he became destruction.
Alessandro needed explanations, or he invented terrifying ones.
Tommy needed silence respected, or he vanished inside himself.
No one had been parenting four children.
They had been surviving four storms.
Victor watched from doorways.
Always from doorways.
Never fully in the room.
One afternoon, I found him outside the playroom while the children built a fort from couch cushions.
“You can come in,” I said.
“They behave better without me.”
“Do they?”
Inside, Nico was wearing a lampshade.
Marco was negotiating surrender terms with Lucia.
Tommy was feeding crackers to a stuffed bear.
Victor’s mouth moved.
“Better is relative.”
“Sit with them.”
He stiffened.
“I don’t know how.”
The confession was quiet.
So quiet I almost missed it under the chaos.
I looked at him.
“Start by sitting.”
“That simple?”
“No. But it’s first.”
He entered like a man walking into enemy territory.
The children froze.
All except Lucia.
She patted the floor.
“Mr. Rinaldi, you can be the dragon.”
Nico gasped.
“Papa is too tall.”
“That makes him a better dragon.”
Victor looked at me.
I shrugged.
“You heard the judge.”
He sat.
Awkwardly.
Expensively.
The boys stared.
Then Tommy crawled into his lap.
No announcement.
No permission.
Just climbed in and curled there.
Victor stopped breathing.
I saw his hands hover, unsure.
Then slowly, carefully, he rested one hand on Tommy’s back.
Tommy closed his eyes.
The room softened.
Marco looked away fast.
Nico stopped laughing.
Alessandro whispered, “Dragon captured.”
Victor’s face broke in a way I don’t think anyone else saw.
But I did.
That night, Rosa found me in the kitchen.
“You are changing this house.”
“I’m feeding children pasta and preventing arson.”
“Same thing here.”
I smiled.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photo appeared.
Lucia at school recess.
Taken through a fence.
Message beneath it.
Court orders don’t stop accidents.
My blood froze.
Rosa saw my face and called Victor before I could speak.
He arrived in under a minute.
I handed him the phone.
For the first time, I saw the mafia boss.
Not the exhausted father.
Not the grieving widower.
The man tabloids feared.
His voice was calm.
“Where is Lucia now?”
“With the boys in the playroom.”
“Good.”
He handed the phone to adult Marco.
“Trace it.”
I grabbed his sleeve.
“Victor.”
His eyes met mine.
“Legally,” I said.
His jaw worked.
“He threatened your daughter.”
“And if you murder him, he wins in court forever.”
That landed.
He closed his eyes once.
Then opened them.
“Legally.”
Adult Marco looked disappointed.
I ignored that.
Helena filed an emergency motion that night.
Police took the threat seriously this time because Victor’s security team traced the number to a prepaid phone purchased near Evan’s workplace.
Evan denied it.
Vanessa gave him an alibi.
Then everything got worse.
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The next morning, Lucia’s school called.
She was missing from her classroom.
