Chapter 7 – THE DRAWING

“What do you mean he’s gone?” I screamed, the echo of my voice tearing through the empty warehouse.

Luca was already sprinting toward the SUV. “Get in! Now!”

My mother and I scrambled into the backseat as Luca threw the vehicle into reverse, tires screeching as he spun the wheel. We tore through the city streets, running red lights, the engine roaring like a caged beast.

“Vanessa’s men must have doubled back,” Luca said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “She was a distraction. She knew I would bring my best men here.”

“Where would they take him?” I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“The airport,” Luca said grimly. “Dominic had a private jet fueled and waiting. They were planning to take Ben out of the country. To use him to blackmail me.”

But Dominic was arrested. Vanessa was in custody.

Who was taking Benjamin?

“Mr. Moretti,” I said suddenly, remembering something from earlier. “The lady from the orphanage. The one who came to the house.”

Luca glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “What about her?”

“She wasn’t from a psychiatric facility. Vanessa admitted that. She was an admissions counselor for an elite boarding school overseas. A place that takes children without questions.”

I grabbed my phone, frantically searching through the contacts I had synced from the house’s main registry.

“Today, Vanessa handed an envelope to a woman at the gates. I saw the logo on her car. St. Jude’s International.”

Luca slammed his hand on the dashboard. “Call the private airfield. Tell them to ground all flights.”

Ten minutes later, we crashed through the chain-link gates of the private airstrip on the outskirts of the city.

A sleek white jet was on the tarmac, its engines whining as it prepared to taxi.

Luca didn’t brake. He drove the heavy SUV directly onto the runway, swerving sharply and parking it sideways in front of the jet’s nose gear, blocking its path.

We jumped out. Luca drew his weapon.

The door of the jet opened.

A woman in a gray suit stood at the top of the stairs, looking terrified. It was the woman from the gates.

“Where is my son?” Luca yelled, aiming the gun.

“Please!” she cried, holding up her hands. “I didn’t know! Mrs. Bellini told me you had signed away your parental rights! She said the boy was violently unstable!”

“Where is he?”

“Inside!”

Luca bypassed her, storming up the stairs and into the cabin. I followed right behind him.

The luxury jet was empty, save for a small figure huddled in one of the oversized leather seats at the back.

“Ben!” Luca dropped his gun and fell to his knees in the aisle, pulling the little boy into a crushing embrace.

“Daddy!” Benjamin sobbed, wrapping his arms tightly around Luca’s neck. “I was so scared. The lady said you didn’t want me anymore.”

“She lied,” Luca said, kissing the top of his son’s head, tears streaming down his face. “I will always want you. You are my son. My life. I will never let anyone take you away from me.”

I stood in the aisle, crying quietly as I watched the broken family finally heal.

Benjamin pulled back slightly, wiping his nose. He looked over Luca’s shoulder and saw me.

“Miss Claire!” he sniffled.

“I’m here, sweetie,” I smiled.

Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it to his father.

“Daddy. I found this in Vanessa’s purse when the lady brought me here. I think it’s for you.”

Luca took the paper and unfolded it.

I leaned over to look.

It wasn’t a drawing.

It was a photograph.

The photograph Vanessa had stolen from Benjamin’s bedside table.

It was a picture of Caroline, smiling brightly, holding a newborn Benjamin in her arms in the hospital.

But as Luca stared at the picture, his expression changed. He flipped the photograph over.

Written on the back, in Caroline’s messy, left-handed scrawl, were three words.

Trust the maid.

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