Chapter 8 - THE BODYGUARD WITH TWO LOYALTIES“Marco, step away from my sister's door.”
Luca's voice carried across the hospital corridor.
Marco turned.
For a moment, his expression was unreadable.
Then he slowly lowered his phone.
“Boss?”
“Step away.”
The hospital fell silent.
Two uniformed officers looked between them.
David moved closer to Luca.
I stood near the conference-room doorway, my heart pounding.
Marco had worked for Luca for fourteen years.
He had protected him through business disputes, assassination threats, and family conflicts.
He knew Luca's schedules.
His passwords.
His security arrangements.
And, most frightening of all, he knew exactly where Isabella was being treated.
Marco glanced toward the officers.
“What's going on?”
Luca held up his phone.
“My mother just called me.”
Marco's expression changed.
“She did?”
“Yes.”
“That's good news.”
“She said you were there when they took her.”
A long silence followed.
Marco lowered his eyes.
Then he said something unexpected.
“She remembers me.”
Luca stared at him.
“Explain.”
Marco took a slow breath.
“I was seventeen.”
Luca didn't move.
“My father worked for Vittorio. He used to bring me along on deliveries.”
“What deliveries?”
“Documents. Medicine. Things I wasn't supposed to ask about.”
Luca stepped closer.
“Were you at St. Catherine's?”
Marco nodded.
“Once.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know what I was seeing.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“You knew my mother.”
“I knew a woman who looked like her.”
“That's not an answer.”
Marco's voice broke slightly.
“I was a kid, Luca. My father told me never to mention what happened that night.”
“What happened?”
Marco glanced at the officers.
Then spoke.
“I saw your mother through a locked window. She was crying. She kept asking for her children.”
Luca felt his stomach turn.
“And you said nothing?”
Marco shook his head.
“I didn't know she was your mother until years later.”
“When?”
Marco hesitated.
“After your father retired.”
Luca stared at him.
That was nearly a decade ago.
“You've known for years.”
Marco's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The admission settled between them like something poisonous.
Luca turned away.
For a moment, he couldn't look at the man.
Finally, he asked:
“Are you still working for my father?”
Marco shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who were you calling?”
Marco held out his phone.
“An investigator.”
David took the device and examined the call record.
The number belonged to Detective Mercer.
Marco continued.
“I told her about my father. About the deliveries. About an old warehouse in Kenosha.”
Luca looked up.
“What warehouse?”
Marco took a breath.
“It's where the medical supplies went before they reached St. Catherine's.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid you'd do something that would get you killed.”
Luca gave a bitter laugh.
“You don't get to decide what truth I can handle.”
Marco lowered his head.
“You're right.”
For several seconds, Luca said nothing.
Then he spoke.
“You're off my security detail.”
Marco looked up.
“Boss—”
“Not because I think you're trying to hurt Isabella.”
Luca's voice remained steady.
“Because you lied to me about something that mattered more than my life.”
Marco swallowed.
“I understand.”
“You need to tell the investigators everything.”
“I will.”
“And if you've hidden anything else, now is the time.”
Marco looked at him.
“There is one more thing.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Of course there is.”
Marco reached into his jacket and removed a sealed envelope.
It was yellowed with age.
Across the front was written:
For Luca, when he's old enough to know the truth.
Luca stared at it.
“My mother's handwriting?”
Marco nodded.
“My father gave it to me before he died.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Luca looked as though he had been struck.
“Seven years?”
Marco's voice cracked.
“I thought it would destroy you.”
Luca stared at him.
Then said the words that ended their friendship as it had existed.
“You didn't protect me, Marco. You protected yourself from having a difficult conversation.”
Marco looked away.
Luca took the envelope.
But he didn't open it immediately.
Instead, he walked toward Isabella's room.
He knocked gently.
“Bella?”
She looked up from her sketchbook.
“Luca?”
“Can I come in?”
She nodded.
He sat beside her bed.
In his hands was the envelope.
She noticed it.
“What's that?”
“I think it's from Mom.”
Isabella's pencil stopped moving.
“Mom?”
Luca nodded.
Her eyes widened.
“Is she alive?”
He swallowed.
“I heard her voice.”
For a moment, Isabella didn't breathe.
Then she whispered:
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She looked down at her drawing.
“What if she doesn't remember me?”
Luca felt his heart break all over again.
“Bella, she was asking about you.”
Tears slipped down Isabella's cheeks.
“She was?”
He nodded.
“She called you her little girl.”
Isabella covered her mouth.
Then she began crying.
Luca waited until she was ready.
Finally, he held out the envelope.
“Do you want to open this together?”
She nodded.
He carefully broke the old seal.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
The handwriting was faded but readable.
My darling Luca,
If you are reading this, it means I failed to keep our family together.
Please don't let your father's choices turn you into the kind of man he became.
Protect your sister, but never decide her future for her.
And remember this: courage is not the absence of fear. It is choosing kindness when fear gives you every reason to be cruel.
Luca stopped reading.
His throat tightened.
Isabella gently touched his arm.
“Keep going.”
He looked down.
The final paragraph was shorter.
There is something you must know about the night we disappeared.
Your father did not act alone.
The person who betrayed us was someone I trusted with both my children.
Luca frowned.
Below the paragraph was a name.
He read it silently.
Then again.
Isabella watched his face.
“What does it say?”
Luca slowly raised his eyes.
The name wasn't Vittorio.
It wasn't Salvatore.
It wasn't Vanessa.
It was Teresa Moretti.
May you like
Their mother's own sister.
END OF CHAPTER 8
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