Chapter 87

NARRATOR

The private jet touched down shortly after dawn. Santiago De Luca was the first to step out, wearing his usual hard expression and the firm stride of a man who trusted nothing and no one. Behind him, Elena descended holding Diego’s hand; the boy clung to her with absolute shyness. His wide eyes took everything in—the Sicilian sky, the warm air heavy with sea salt, the hills covered in ancient vineyards. It was the first time he had set foot in a place that smelled like home, though he did not yet know if he was allowed to call it that.

The armored vehicle waited in front of the hangar. During the drive to the villa, Diego did not speak. He simply stared out the window, a mix of curiosity and fear in his gaze. Elena watched him from the corner of her eye, trying to decipher what he was feeling, while Santiago drove in silence, alert to every curve of the winding road.

“Are you okay, little one?” she asked softly.

The boy nodded without looking at her.

“Yes… it’s just that I’ve never been in such a big place,” he whispered.

Elena smiled.

“Then you’re going to love where we live. It has a garden, guard dogs, and a room we had prepared just for you.”

The boy looked up, surprised.

“A room… just for me?”

“Of course,” she said. “It’s your home now, Diego.”

Santiago tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He was not a man of tender words, but the emotion in his wife’s voice reminded him of what this decision meant to her.

When they arrived, the wrought-iron gates of the villa opened without him needing to honk. The guards stepped aside with reverence, and the car rolled down the long stone driveway until it stopped at the main entrance.

Diego stepped out slowly. The Mediterranean sun blinded him for a moment. Before him, the mansion rose like a castle: pale stone walls, balconies draped in bougainvillea, an ancient fountain at the center of the garden.

Elena took his hand and led him inside.

“Welcome home,” she said with a broad smile.

The interior was even more impressive. Polished marble floors, antique paintings, endless hallways. Diego walked carefully, afraid to touch anything. Elena led him to the second floor and opened a carved wooden door.

The room was filled with natural light. A new bed with blue sheets, toys, a bookshelf with brand-new books, and on the wall a large world map dotted with colorful pins.

The boy was left completely speechless.

“If there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll change it,” she said. “I want it to be your place.”

He turned slowly, looking at her shyly.

“I never had a bed like this…” he murmured. “Or new toys.”

Elena knelt and gently caressed his face.

“All of this is yours now, Diego. And so are we. You can tell us anything you want, whenever you want. There are no secrets here.”

The boy nodded slowly. Santiago watched from the doorway, arms crossed. When the child’s eyes met his, he forced himself to smile. It wasn’t easy. He didn’t know how to be tender. But he tried.

“Do you like soccer?” he asked.

“Yes.” The boy brightened a little. “I played with the other kids at the orphanage.”

“Perfect. Tomorrow I’ll buy you a ball.”

Elena looked at him in surprise. Santiago rarely promised anything. Diego smiled for the first time since they arrived.

Two days later, Santiago organized a family dinner. He wanted to formally introduce Diego to the rest of the De Lucas. He did it not out of vanity, but out of respect for blood. In his world, even affection was declared with protocol.

The De Luca mansion was lit up that night like in the old days. Servants moved back and forth with trays, red wine flowed freely, and conversations were a mix of forced laughter and calculated silences.

Lucía arrived with the twins, who were just beginning to walk. Sebastián appeared with his wife Valentina and their teenage twins, Marco and Sofia.

Valentina entered as if the place belonged to her, wearing a striking dress and a venomous smile.

“So this is the famous Diego,” she said, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disdain. “How adorable. He almost looks like a saint among so much family sin.”

Elena visibly tensed, but replied calmly.

“Yes, he’s adorable. And now he’s part of this family.”

“Of course,” Valentina continued. “An orphan in the De Luca family. Now that’s new and interesting.”

Santiago shot her a lethal look.

“That’s enough, Valentina.”

“What?” she replied, shrugging. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. Although I suppose you and your wife were desperately in need of a child to fill the empty house.”

The atmosphere turned glacial. Sebastián intervened immediately.

“Valentina, shut up,” he ordered in a low but deadly firm voice.

She looked at him defiantly, but bit her lip and fell into resentful silence.

Elena took Diego’s hand and drew him close.

“Don’t listen to her,” she whispered. “Sometimes people say foolish things when they don’t understand what it means to have a heart.”

Lucía, who had been observing everything from a corner, stood up and approached.

“Diego,” she said gently. “Come with me. I want to introduce you to my daughters.”

The boy approached and looked at the twins, who watched him curiously. Lucía smiled.

“These are Isabella and Sofía. Your cousins.”

The boy smiled shyly.

“Can I touch them?”

“Of course,” she replied. “They like holding hands.”

The little girls laughed, and the tension in the room seemed to ease a bit. Elena watched the scene with gratitude. She approached Lucía when they stepped away from the group.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Not everyone was so kind.”

Lucía took her hands.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re doing something beautiful, Elena. That child is lucky to have you.”

“I hope I can be a good mother,” she whispered, holding back tears.

“You will be,” Lucía said. “And my daughters now have a cousin who will protect them. I’m sure of it.”

Elena hugged her. From a distance, Santiago watched the two women talking and felt something strange: a breath of relief in the middle of his violent life. For a moment, the family seemed united.

But the peace did not last.

That night, when Sebastián and Valentina returned to their mansion, the argument began before the servants could even close the door.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sebastián shouted, throwing his jacket onto the sofa. “Was it really necessary to humiliate my brother in front of everyone?”

Valentina followed him, just as defiant.

“I only told the truth. Or is speaking also forbidden in this family now?”

“Keeping quiet wouldn’t kill you!” he snapped, losing patience. “Why do you always have to ruin everything?”

“Ruin it?” she laughed bitterly. “Please, Sebastián. You ruined this family years ago when you decided your brother was more important than us.”

Sebastián took a threatening step toward her, his face hardening.

“Watch what you say.”

“Or what?” she spat angrily. “Are you going to hit me too, like your father used to hit your mother?”

The blow never came, but the silence that followed was more violent than any slap.

Sofia, their daughter, ran down the stairs.

“Stop it, Mom!” she cried, positioning herself between them. “Don’t provoke him!”

Sebastián took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

“Go upstairs, sweetheart. This is none of your business.”

But Sofia hugged him.

“Dad, she sometimes says terrible things, but…” she whispered. “She doesn’t know how to appreciate the family she has. Forgive her, please.”

Sebastián caressed her tenderly.

“You don’t have to apologize for her.”

A few meters away, Marco, their son, watched in silence. He didn’t say a word. He just looked at his mother, then at his father, and went upstairs without looking back.

When the silence returned, Valentina dropped into an armchair, lit a cigarette, and exhaled in anger.

Sebastián looked at her, exhausted.

“Do you know what the worst part is, Valentina?” he said quietly. “That I don’t even know when we stopped being a marriage and became enemies.”

She didn’t answer. She simply looked away, her eyes shining with wounded pride and frustration.

Sebastián lingered a moment longer, then went to his study, slamming the door shut.

In the hallway, Sofia heard the echo of the door and hugged herself. She knew something was breaking more and more between her parents—something no one seemed capable of fixing anymore.

And while in Santiago’s villa there reigned, for the first time, an air of hope and new smiles, in Sebastián’s house there were only the shadows of a marriage beginning to burn itself out.

The De Luca family—so powerful, so feared—rested on foundations that were beginning to tremble.

And none of them imagined that this tremor would soon become an earthquake.