Chapter 2 - THE MAFIA BOSS DISCOVERED HIS FATHER HAD BEEN NEGLECTED FOR YEARS—BUT WHEN HE ASKED WHY THE OLD DON TRUSTED ME, THE ANSWER LED TO A SECRET HIDDEN INSIDE THE MANSION
The first thing Lorenzo Moretti did was dismiss Mrs. Gable from her duties.
The second was call his father's physician.
The third was ask me to stay.
I stood outside Giovanni's bedroom while doctors moved equipment through the doorway.
My heart pounded.
I was terrified I had somehow caused trouble.
For weeks, I had been warned not to question anything.
Now the entire mansion seemed to be turning upside down because Giovanni had pointed at me.
Lorenzo stood near the window speaking quietly with his security chief.
His name was Marco Bellini.
Marco was older than Lorenzo, with graying hair and the calm expression of someone who had seen too much.
When the conversation ended, Lorenzo approached me.
"Emma."
I straightened.
"Yes, sir?"
His expression softened slightly.
"You don't have to call me sir."
I blinked.
"Okay."
He looked at my wrist.
"Does that hurt?"
I glanced down.
"A little."
His jaw tightened.
"Did Gable do that?"
I nodded.
He was silent.
Then asked:
"Has she hurt you before?"
I hesitated.
He noticed.
"Emma."
I looked up.
"You're not in trouble."
Something in my chest tightened.
I swallowed.
"She makes me lift things."
His eyes dropped to my stomach.
"Heavy things?"
I nodded.
"Sometimes."
He looked away.
For a moment, his expression became frightening.
Then he took a slow breath.
"Have you seen a doctor recently?"
"Two weeks ago."
"And?"
I swallowed.
"My doctor told me to rest more."
Lorenzo looked at Marco.
"Arrange a medical appointment today."
I immediately shook my head.
"No, please."
He turned.
"Why?"
"I can't afford it."
He stared.
Then said quietly:
"Emma, you're working in my home. Your safety is my responsibility."
I looked down.
"I don't want charity."
He paused.
Then nodded.
"Fair."
He considered his words.
"Then let's call it correcting a failure in how this household has been managed."
I hesitated.
He continued.
"You'll be paid for your time. And you'll have the medical care you need."
My throat tightened.
For the first time in months, I felt something dangerously close to relief.
***
Giovanni's physician arrived before noon.
Dr. Samuel Reeves had treated him for years.
He was shocked by the reports of Giovanni's movement.
"Deliberate movement after this long is unusual," he said carefully.
Lorenzo stood beside the bed.
"Could he be recovering?"
Dr. Reeves hesitated.
"Possibly. But we need neurological testing before drawing conclusions."
Giovanni watched them.
His eyes moved toward me.
I stood near the door.
Dr. Reeves noticed.
"Does he respond to her?"
Lorenzo nodded.
"Apparently."
The doctor turned to me.
"What do you usually do with him?"
I hesitated.
"Talk."
He smiled faintly.
"About what?"
I shrugged.
"Everything."
"Everything?"
I nodded.
"My baby. My work. The weather. Books."
I looked toward Giovanni.
"He seemed lonely."
The doctor studied me.
Then asked:
"Do you help him eat?"
"Yes."
"Read to him?"
"Sometimes."
"Change his position?"
"When I can."
Dr. Reeves looked toward Lorenzo.
His expression became serious.
"Has his daily care routine been documented?"
Lorenzo frowned.
"It should be."
The doctor nodded.
"I'd like to review it."
***
By evening, the household was under investigation.
Lorenzo ordered an independent review of his father's care.
Medical records.
Staff schedules.
Medication logs.
Food records.
Security footage.
Everything.
Mrs. Gable was removed from the property while the matter was examined.
She left furious.
But she didn't leave quietly.
As security escorted her toward the servants' entrance, she turned and stared at me.
"This isn't over."
I felt cold.
Lorenzo heard her.
He stepped forward.
"Mrs. Gable."
She froze.
He looked at her.
"Threaten another employee, and your attorney will be hearing about it."
Her face went pale.
She turned away.
***
That night, I sat beside Giovanni.
The room was warm.
The curtains were open.
Fresh flowers stood near the window.
He looked better already.
I smiled.
"Quite a day, huh?"
His eyes moved toward me.
I laughed softly.
"Your son is terrifying."
A faint sound escaped his throat.
I froze.
"Was that a laugh?"
His eyes crinkled slightly.
I smiled.
"I'll take that as a yes."
***
Lorenzo appeared in the doorway.
He watched us quietly.
I turned.
"Oh."
He stepped inside.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
I stood.
"I was just leaving."
Giovanni made a strained sound.
We both turned.
His eyes fixed on me.
Lorenzo approached the bed.
"Dad?"
Giovanni's fingers twitched.
I took his hand.
"It's okay."
His breathing eased.
Lorenzo watched.
Then said quietly:
"He trusts you."
I looked at Giovanni.
"I trust him too."
Lorenzo's expression changed.
For a moment, he looked almost sad.
***
Later, Lorenzo asked me to join him in the library.
I hesitated.
He noticed.
"You can say no."
I smiled faintly.
"Okay."
We sat across from each other.
A fire burned in the enormous stone fireplace.
Lorenzo poured himself coffee.
Then offered me tea.
I accepted.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then he asked:
"How long have you been caring for my father?"
"About six weeks."
He frowned.
"Only six weeks?"
I nodded.
He looked down.
"Six weeks."
I watched him.
Then asked:
"Can I ask you something?"
He looked up.
"Of course."
"Why doesn't anyone visit him?"
The question seemed to strike him.
He stared at me.
Then looked away.
"I thought he had everything he needed."
I swallowed.
"He didn't."
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
"I know that now."
***
For the first time, I saw something beneath his controlled exterior.
Guilt.
Real guilt.
He wasn't angry because someone had embarrassed him.
He was angry because someone had hurt his father.
And because he hadn't noticed.
***
"My father was difficult," Lorenzo said quietly.
I waited.
He continued.
"Powerful. Demanding. Sometimes cruel."
He looked toward the fire.
"But he was still my father."
I nodded.
Lorenzo swallowed.
"When he had the stroke, I visited constantly."
"What happened?"
He hesitated.
"Doctors said he might never recover."
I watched him.
"Then business took over."
He laughed bitterly.
"That's the excuse I gave myself."
I said nothing.
He continued.
"Eventually, I stopped coming as often."
His voice tightened.
"I thought he couldn't tell the difference."
I looked at him.
"He could."
Lorenzo nodded slowly.
"I know."
***
We sat quietly.
Then I said:
"He's still there."
Lorenzo looked up.
I continued.
"Inside."
His eyes filled.
I smiled gently.
"He understands more than people think."
For a long moment, Lorenzo stared at me.
Then whispered:
"Thank you."
***
The next morning, the medical review uncovered something troubling.
Giovanni's medication records didn't match the physician's prescriptions.
Several sedating medications had been administered more frequently than documented in the original treatment plan.
Dr. Reeves was visibly disturbed.
"This requires further investigation."
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
"Could that explain his condition?"
The doctor shook his head.
"Not entirely. His stroke caused significant damage. But inappropriate sedation could have affected his alertness and rehabilitation."
Lorenzo looked toward Marco.
"Preserve everything."
Marco nodded.
***
A specialist was brought in.
Medication was reviewed.
Therapy began.
And Giovanni slowly became more responsive.
Not dramatically.
Not overnight.
But little by little.
His eyes followed conversations.
His fingers moved more often.
Sometimes he made sounds.
And whenever I entered the room, his expression changed.
***
One afternoon, I was helping him eat lunch when he suddenly grabbed my hand.
Not strongly.
But deliberately.
I froze.
"Mr. Giovanni?"
His eyes widened.
He tried to speak.
A strained sound escaped.
I leaned closer.
"It's okay."
He moved his lips.
Again.
Again.
Then finally whispered:
"Desk."
I stared.
"What?"
His breathing quickened.
"Desk."
I looked toward the large antique desk across the room.
"That desk?"
His eyes moved toward it.
I swallowed.
"Do you want something from there?"
He blinked.
Once.
Then again.
I stood slowly.
The desk was old.
Dark mahogany.
Heavy brass handles.
I opened the top drawer.
Empty.
The second contained stationery.
The third was locked.
I turned.
"Giovanni?"
His eyes fixed on the locked drawer.
My heart pounded.
***
I called Lorenzo.
He arrived minutes later.
I explained what happened.
He stared at the desk.
Then at his father.
"Dad?"
Giovanni's eyes widened.
Lorenzo approached the drawer.
He examined the lock.
Then looked toward Marco.
"Find the key."
***
The key was discovered inside a small leather case hidden behind Giovanni's old medical records.
Lorenzo opened the drawer.
Inside was a black notebook.
A sealed envelope.
And a photograph.
Lorenzo picked up the photograph.
His expression changed.
I stepped closer.
The picture showed Giovanni standing beside another man.
Both were younger.
Smiling.
Behind them stood a woman holding a baby.
I frowned.
The woman looked familiar.
Very familiar.
Lorenzo noticed my expression.
"Emma?"
I stared at the photograph.
My hands began shaking.
May you like
Because the woman holding the baby was my mother.
END OF CHAPTER 2
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