Chapter 7
Vittorio moved Lucy upstairs.
Not hidden.
Protected.
There was a difference.
Emma went with her.
Bianca watched.
“You’re turning her against me.”
Vittorio looked at her.
“No.”
“You did that yourself.”
Her face hardened.
“She needs a mother.”
“She needs safety.”
“I gave her a home.”
“You gave her a dog bowl.”
Silence.
Bianca looked away.
Vittorio left her there.
Downstairs, Caleb still refused to explain the river house.
So Vittorio stopped asking him.
He asked Marcus.
“Why move Lucy?”
Marcus laughed nervously.
“I didn’t know.”
“Lie.”
“No.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
Marcus looked toward Caleb.
That was enough.
Vittorio waited.
Marcus finally said:
“He said Lucy would make you come alone.”
“Why?”
“Because you always do.”
Silence.
Always.
Caleb had studied him.
Fatherhood as predictability.
Marcus continued:
“You don’t send crews when it’s her.”
“You go.”
Vittorio remembered.
Two fevers.
One playground injury.
A nightmare at three in the morning.
He went himself.
Caleb had watched care become pattern.
“What waits at river house?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I swear.”
Caleb laughed from across the room.
“Pathetic.”
Marcus turned.
Caleb smiled.
“You want to be capo and you beg the moment your lip splits.”
Marcus’s face reddened.
Caleb continued.
“You’re lucky Bianca married into the right house.”
Marcus lunged.
Two guards held him.
Caleb laughed.
“There.”
“No control.”
“No discipline.”
Marcus shouted:
“You said nobody touches Lucy!”
Vittorio’s eyes narrowed.
Caleb stopped smiling.
There.
Marcus realized.
Too late.
Vittorio stepped closer.
“So someone planned to.”
Marcus looked away.
“Who?”
No answer.
“Marcus.”
He swallowed.
“Not hurt.”
“What?”
“Use.”
“How?”
Marcus stared at the floor.
“Video.”
Vittorio’s expression hardened.
Caleb closed his eyes.
Marcus continued.
“They wanted you at river house.”
“Angry.”
“Alone.”
“Lucy crying.”
Vittorio understood.
Another staged image.
Not necessarily for public outsiders.
For capos.
Show Vittorio abandoning command and charging blindly after his daughter.
Then Caleb appears calm.
Controlled.
Ready.
A leadership contrast.
But Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
Vittorio looked at him.
“That wasn’t all.”
Silence.
“What else?”
Marcus whispered:
“The river house has old microphones.”
Vittorio frowned.
His father had used them for internal meetings.
Marcus continued.
“Caleb wanted you recorded.”
“Saying what?”
“I don’t know.”
Caleb smiled again.
Vittorio looked at him.
Caleb finally spoke.
“I wanted you to order the war.”
There it was.
A recording of Vittorio, furious over Lucy, commanding retaliation.
Permanent.
Undeniable.
Even if he later changed course.
Caleb continued:
“You were going to give me the war in your own voice.”
Vittorio stared.
Then Thomas, his security chief, entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found the river-house car.”
“Where?”
“Already on the estate.”
May you like
Vittorio’s expression changed.
The kidnapping team had arrived early.
