CHAPTER 04

Every stride Catalina took down the hall brought her closer to Luca Moretti, the reason she was here. Her heart thudded in her chest, mixed with remorse and fear. The young woman who had come to retrieve her led the way in silence, her countenance still gentle but hesitant, as if she was cautious of allowing problems onto herself by speaking too freely.

They moved along a sequence of passageways, each more lavish than the next. The splendor felt to Catalina like suffocating. Though the mansion was beautiful, yes, it also felt like a maze meant to make her feel small, helpless, and absolutely out of place.

She tried to concentrate on her breathing, to calm her anxieties, but nothing could untangle the fear coiling in her gut.

At last, they stopped outside a door less grand than the others. It was painted a beautiful, peaceful blue, and a little wooden sign bearing the name “Luca” was hanging on it, surface etched with care.

Turning to Catalina, the young woman gave a comforting smile. She murmured softly, as though sensing Catalina’s anxiety: “He’s a sweet boy. Just… be polite. He has had a lot going through.”

The throat of Catalina grew tight. She thought, the guilt twisting agonizingly inside her, because of us. Not trusting herself to talk, she nodded.

Opening the door, the young woman moved aside to indicate Catalina should enter. Breathing deeply, she walked into the room getting ready for what she would find.

The room was cozy and pleasant, a far cry from the rest of the house. On shelves, toys were orderly placed; the floor was covered on a nice, colorful rug. A child’s utopia in an otherwise chilly environment, the walls were covered with murals of blue sky and verdant meadows.

Propped up in a hospital bed in the middle of the room was Luca Moretti.

He was little and pallid, with dark hair falling into his eyes in a mess. His face was drawn, his cheeks hollowed from the toll his injuries had taken. But he observed her with big, dark, inquisitive eyes. His eyes revealed a fragility that caused Catalina’s heart pain.

Luca gripped a plush bear tightly against his breast, his small fingers clutching it defensively. His voice was subdued but consistent when he spoke. His tone, a mix of hope and doubt, inquired, “Are you the new nurse?”

Breath caught in her throat, Catalina. She had not expected him to approach her, much less pose a question so pure and trusting. She pushed herself to stand forward and kneel by his bed by hard swallowing.

“No,” she responded softly. “Not a nurse, here I am. I go as Catalina.”

Luca’s brow wrinkled, and he raised his head to give her a stern look that seemed far too adult for a youngster his age.

“Catalina,” he said, as though he were sampling her name. “Then why are you here?”

Though it almost broke her, the question was basic. How could she explain to this young youngster that she came here in response to the violence consuming both their lives? Because of the loss of her father and a bullet aiming incorrectly?

Though it felt thin and delicate, she pushed herself to grin. She declared, “I’m here to help.” She could offer him only one truth.

Luca looked at her for a time, then nodded as though that would be sufficient.

“Okay,” he spoke gently. “I’m happy you could make it here.”

The weight of his innocence pressed down on Catalina, her heart hurt. Though delicate, Matteo Moretti was the reason she survived; he was the only thing preventing him from releasing his entire wrath. Her hand shaking, she extended herself to softly touch Luca’s fingers. The lad stayed close, and that little act of trust almost turned back on her.

They both jumped at a light knock on the door, then Catalina immediately pulled her hand back. The young woman who had shown her came back, her demeanor more subdued now.

Matteo Moretti himself loomed behind her.

The space seemed to get smaller, the stress thickening the air. Matteo was all about her; Catalina felt every instinct scream at her to flee. But Luca drove herself to remain still; her small, trusting eyes were on her.

Matteo’s eyes swept across the picture, absorbing Catalina’s kneeling at his son’s bedside. Something flickering in his eyes caught her off-target reading moment. His face grew stiff then, and he walked into the room with sure, forceful steps.

“How are he?” Though Matteo’s voice was aimed at the young woman, his gaze never left Catalina.

The woman looked uneasily between Matteo and Luca. “He is stable,” she remarked. “The doctors believe he’s strong, but the location of the bullet still makes great risk.”

Matteo’s cheek muscle jerked as his jaw tightened. With three long strides across the room, he sat on the side of Luca’s bed, and his sudden tenderness startled Catalina. He leaned out and gently stroked a lock of Luca’s hair off his forehead, softening his face.

“Hey, champ,” he remarked, his voice somewhat less gruff. “How do you feel today?”

Though there was conflict, Luca’s smile made the room seem cozier. His voice, tiny but courageous, said, “I’m okay, Papa. I was showing Catalina my teddy. I know his name is Max.”

Matteo’s gaze strayed to Catalina, and for a split second, she believed she saw something like thanks. But it was gone as fast as it had been, replaced by his regular austere manner. He nodded, his voice cool yet forceful.

“Good. Will Max not keep you safe?”

Luca nodded and held the bear closer. “Surely, Papa.”

Before Matteo stood, his hand stayed on his son’s for a second. His eyes became soft, then he glanced at Catalina, and his stare hardened once more.

“A word. Right now.”

Though her stomach turned, Catalina nodded and pushed herself to stand. Her legs felt like lead as she trailed Matteo out the room. He locked the door behind them once they were outside, and the warmth she had felt with Luca vanished, replaced by a frigid, heavy dread.

Matteo faced her, his eyes ablaze. “Luca seems to trust you,” he added, his voice low and threatening. “That is the sole reason you find yourself here. But never let yourself believe you are safe for a moment.”

Clenching her hands, Catalina tried to muster the bravery to meet his eye. She said, “I understand,” even though her heart was thumping.

Matteo drew near, his face just inches from hers. “No,” he answered, his voice icy but his breath warm. “I do not think you do. Should Luca’s condition deteriorate and you provide any justification for me to believe you to be a threat, I will destroy you and everything you value. Do you understand that?”

Catalina’s throat was dry, and she swallowed fiercely. “Indeed,” she said, her voice hardly audible.

Matteo stared at her, looking for any hint of disobedience. He retreated, his face inscrutable when he discovered none.

“Good,” he answered. Then he turned and walked away, leaving Catalina shaking in the corridor as his warning slammed down on her like a hurricane she was unable to flee.

Seeking her breath, she leaned against the wall. She reminded herself: one minute at a time. One day at a time.

She realized, though, that surviving Matteo’s fury was only half of the fight as she considered Luca’s trusting smile. She also had to figure out how the lad lived—that meant confronting threats she couldn’t even start to fathom.