Chapter 66: The Child in the Shadows
Chapter 66: The Child in the Shadows
Luca didn’t move for a long time. His face, usually carved from cold restraint, looked like it had been hollowed out. The storm outside cast trembling shadows through the tall study windows, playing tricks on the room’s silence. But nothing in that moment was more deafening than what Evangeline had said.
“He’s yours.”
Those words. They fractured something inside him that no bullet, no betrayal, no loss ever had.
“You lied to me,” Luca said finally, his voice low. Not angry. Not accusatory. Wounded.
Evangeline braced herself. “I protected him.”
“You think keeping him from me was protection?”
“I know it was.”
Luca’s eyes flared, but he said nothing. He turned away from her, dragging a hand down his face like he was trying to wake from a nightmare. “How old is he?”
“Three.”
A broken laugh escaped him, soft and bitter. “Three years… I’ve missed three years of my son’s life.”
Evangeline swallowed hard. Her throat felt like it had been scorched. “He was born after the fire. After I thought you were dead. After everything fell apart. There was no place safe for him. Not with my family gone. Not with you…” She didn’t finish.
Not with you being the man I thought had murdered my father.
Luca sat heavily in the leather chair behind his desk. The old wooden frame creaked beneath the sudden weight—not just of his body, but of a truth that had been buried too long.
“What’s his name?” he asked.
“Leo.”
The faintest smile flickered across his lips. Lion. How fitting. But it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Where is he now?”
“With someone I trust. Far from here.”
“Does he know about me?”
Evangeline hesitated. Then, gently: “Only that his father is… somewhere dangerous. But that he’s loved.”
That struck deeper than any dagger. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging low.
“I should hate you for this,” he murmured.
“I know.”
“But I don’t.” He looked up, eyes bloodshot. “I hate myself for giving you every reason to keep him from me.”
For a moment, the space between them was too wide to cross. Not physically, but in all the years and pain and secrets that had pooled in the dark between their hearts.
Evangeline sat across from him, her fingers trembling. “Luca… if I had told you then, would it have changed anything? Would you have stopped?”
He met her gaze. “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Because suddenly it wouldn’t have just been about revenge or empire. It would have been about something real.”
He reached for her hand, gently, like he feared she might pull away. She didn’t.
“You said he’s safe,” Luca said, squeezing her fingers. “But now that Xavier and Alessandra are exposed, that safety is temporary.”
“I know.”
“They won’t stop, Eva. Especially now that they know we’ve begun to put the pieces together.”
She nodded. “Which is why we’re going to take the fight to them.”
Luca gave her a look—half admiration, half disbelief. “We?”
Evangeline met his gaze squarely. “Yes, Luca. We. This isn’t just your war anymore.”
Across town, in the subterranean lounge of a private estate in Saint-Tropez, Alessandra Renault swirled her wine and laughed at a news broadcast showing Luca’s face on screen. A speculative report linking him to an international arms ring had just broken. Another carefully planted seed.
Xavier stood behind her, arms folded, eyes on a map spread across the wall.
“They’re quiet,” he said.
“They’re cornered,” Alessandra corrected. “Evangeline’s silence is predictable. She always hesitated when emotions muddled her logic.”
Xavier turned. “And Luca?”
She smiled coldly. “Luca won’t see it coming until it’s too late. By the time he realizes what’s happening, his empire will be ashes, and his legacy—our legacy—will be sealed.”
A soft beep echoed from the nearby console. Xavier walked over, pressed a key. A video feed came up.
Matteo’s face.
Xavier’s jaw tightened. “What is this?”
But it wasn’t live. It was a recording.
Matteo, looking into the camera, lips curled in defiance.
“I know what you’re planning. And so does Luca.”
The screen went black.
Alessandra’s smile finally faded.
Back at the estate, Luca stood in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance like old gods whispering of wrath. He hadn’t moved much since Evangeline had gone upstairs, needing space. And perhaps… needing to cry.
He had a son. A son he’d never held. A child who bore his blood but knew nothing of his name.
The thought hollowed him.
Matteo entered quietly. “You saw the footage?”
Luca nodded.
“And?”
“I want them burned to the ground,” Luca said. His voice was calm. Too calm.
“We’ll need more than fire,” Matteo replied. “We need evidence. Testimony. Something that will make Xavier and Alessandra untouchable no more.”
“I want her safe,” Luca said. “Evangeline. And Leo. I need them protected at all costs.”
“I’ve already dispatched guards to the villa in Corsica.”
“No.” Luca turned to him. “That’s not enough. I want them gone. Hidden. I want their names erased from every system. I want them to disappear.”
Matteo hesitated. “And you?”
“I’ll stay. I’ll fight.”
Matteo gave a long sigh. “You know how this ends.”
“Yes,” Luca said. “But they don’t.”
Upstairs, Evangeline opened the old cedar chest beneath her bed and pulled out a small box. Inside: Leo’s first photo. His hospital tag. A bracelet. She pressed them to her chest and whispered, “He’s coming for you now, baby. Not to own you. To love you.”
And for the first time in years, she let herself hope.