Chapter 3 – The Little Boy in the Kitchen

The thirty-two guests sat paralyzed.

Vanessa’s mother gripped her napkin so hard her knuckles turned white.

“That’s a lie!” Vanessa screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Michael. “He’s a liar! He’s covering up his theft!”

Luca didn’t even look at her.

He walked straight toward his brother and the little boy.

He knelt on the hardwood floor, right in front of the seven-year-old.

“Leo,” Luca said softly, his voice warmer than I had ever heard it. “Are you hurt?”

Leo shook his head, gripping his drawing tighter. “They just yelled a lot, Uncle Luca. Daddy fought them.”

Luca looked up at his brother’s bruised jaw and the sling on his arm.

“Answer one question, Michael,” Luca said. “Did Vanessa’s father give you two million dollars?”

“Yes,” Michael said quietly. “But it wasn’t a loan. It was hush money.”

The room inhaled sharply.

Luca stood up. “To keep quiet about what?”

Michael looked at Vanessa. “About the fact that her family is completely bankrupt. They don’t have a dime left, Luca. Her father’s company went under six months ago. She’s only marrying you to pay off their creditors.”

“Liar!” Mrs. Bellini shrieked, standing up so fast her chair tipped over.

But Luca wasn’t finished. “If it was hush money, why did she send men to your house?”

Michael swallowed hard, looking down at his son.

“Because I refused the money. I told her I was going to tell you the truth before the wedding. So she threatened to have Social Services take Leo away. She fabricated documents saying I was an unfit father.”

Vanessa’s chest was heaving. “He is unfit! Look at him! The boy is disturbed, Luca. He doesn’t speak properly. He ruins every social event. I couldn’t have him at the wedding, ruining our pictures!”

Teresa stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

The seventy-eight-year-old woman, who had spent the entire evening apologizing for her own existence, suddenly looked ten feet tall.

She walked over to Leo and gently pulled the little boy into her arms.

“My grandson is perfect,” Teresa said, her voice shaking with quiet fury.

Leo buried his face in Teresa’s dark-blue gown.

He held up his little hand, offering the drawing he had been clutching.

Teresa took it.

I was standing close enough to see it.

It was a crayon drawing of a woman with red hair locking a little boy in a dark room.

Teresa looked at the drawing, then looked at Vanessa.

“What did you do to him?” Teresa whispered.

Vanessa laughed nervously, backing away. “It’s just a child’s stupid picture.”

“Hannah,” Luca’s voice cracked like a whip.

I jumped. “Yes, sir?”

“Where was Leo this afternoon while we were preparing for the dinner?”

My stomach dropped into my shoes. I looked at Vanessa, who was staring at me with pure, undisguised venom.

“Tell him!” Vanessa hissed. “Tell him the boy was being a nuisance!”

I looked at Teresa, who was holding Leo tightly. I thought of my own father, recovering in his hospital bed.

I lifted my chin.

“Miss Vanessa ordered me to lock him in the pantry, sir,” I said loudly. “She said she didn’t want anyone to know he existed.”

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