Chapter 8 - The Shadow of the Past
8 - 15
The morning sun crested the horizon fully, flooding the study with golden light that chased away the last lingering shadows of the night. But inside Matteo Varric’s mind, the darkness was only beginning to clear.
He stood up from his kneeling position beside Liana’s chair, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the tranquil, now-secured sculpture garden. The bullet holes in the marble fountains were silent reminders of how close they had all come to total annihilation.
"Viktor is dead," Matteo said, his voice cold and resolute as he stared out at the manicured grounds. "And the men who backed him across the western gate have either been neutralized or are currently singing operatic solos for Marco down in the lower holding cells. The immediate threat to this estate is neutralized."
Liana clutched the wool blanket tighter around her shoulders, her eyes fixed on the sleeping infant in the bassinet. The revelation that Nico—her little boy, whom she had mourned under gray skies twenty-two days ago—was alive and breathing right beside her felt like a miraculous, terrifying dream from which she was terrified of waking up.
"What happens now, Matteo?" she asked quietly. "The federal task force is still building its case against your syndicate. And even though Viktor is gone, there will be others who know about the hospital swap. Rivals, enemies, prosecutors... they’ll all want to use my son as leverage against you."
Matteo turned away from the window, his expression hardening into an expression of absolute, unyielding resolve. He walked back across the room, stopping directly in front of her chair.
"Nobody touches my son," Matteo said, every word dropping like a slab of granite. "And nobody touches his mother. From this moment on, Liana, you are no longer a maid in this house. You are the mistress of the Varric estate, protected by every gun, every guard, and every dollar under my command."
Liana’s eyes widened slightly at the declaration. "You’re talking about protection, Matteo, but what about the truth? What about the world outside these gates? If the authorities find out that Nico is actually Lucas Graves—the baby supposedly buried in an unmarked paupers' grave downtown—there will be a media circus, an exhumation order, and a custody battle that could tear our lives apart."
Matteo let out a short, humorless scoff. "Let them try. The paperwork at St. Jude’s has already been permanently corrected. Viktor’s digital trail has been scrubbed from every server between here and Geneva. As far as the public record is concerned, Nico Varric was born in a private Swiss clinic and brought home to his father’s estate nine months ago, where he has been cared for by his loving mother, Liana Varric."
Liana stared at him, stunned by the sheer, terrifying efficiency of his underworld power. "You’ve already rewritten his entire existence."
"I’ve restored what was stolen," Matteo corrected softly, leaning down so that his face was only inches from hers. "Just as I intend to restore everything that was stolen from you."
Before Liana could reply, a soft, high-pitched coo echoed from the bassinet.
Both of them turned their heads instantly.
Nico—or Lucas—was waking up. His tiny eyelids fluttered open, revealing those large, shimmering, deeply curious eyes that had locked onto Liana’s soul in the marble foyer twenty-four hours earlier.
The baby stretched his arms upward, yawning adorably, and let out a happy little gurgle.
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Liana didn't hesitate. She stood up from her chair, scooped the infant into her arms, and pulled him fiercely against her chest, burying her face in his soft dark hair as fresh tears of pure, unadulterated relief spilled down her cheeks.
Matteo watched them, his rugged face softening in a way his capos and enemies would never have believed possible. He reached out, gently wrapping his arms around both of them, enclosing mother and son in an unbreakable circle of steel and warmth.
