Chapter 7 - We escaped through an underground drainage tunnel.Grace carried the baby.
I carried the gun.
My father followed behind us.
My mother was gone.
Again.
I didn't know whether she was dead.
I didn't care.
Not yet.
We reached an abandoned warehouse beyond the estate.
One of my loyal men waited there.
He looked at the baby.
Then at my father.
His face changed.
“Sir…”
“What?”
He swallowed.
“There has been an attack at the Ferraro docks.”
“By who?”
“Adrian.”
I walked toward him.
“What does he want?”
“He wants you.”
“Why?”
“He says the child belongs to him.”
My blood boiled.
“He is my brother.”
“He says you stole his inheritance.”
I looked at my father.
“What inheritance?”
He closed his eyes.
“The Ferraro throne.”
“I don't want it.”
“You already have it.”
A phone rang.
My father's.
He answered.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Father.”
My father's face hardened.
“Adrian.”
I took the phone.
“Where is Grace?”
A quiet laugh.
“Still protecting the woman who destroyed us.”
My grip tightened.
“You imprisoned my wife.”
“No.”
He paused.
“I protected her.”
“From what?”
“From Elena.”
I frowned.
“My mother?”
“She intended to kill Grace after the birth.”
“You’re saying you helped her?”
“I gave her time.”
“Then why attack us?”
“Because you refuse to understand.”
I heard a woman's voice in the background.
Grace.
“Luca!”
I froze.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
Then Adrian spoke.
“Your wife is safe.”
“Put her on.”
He did.
Grace whispered:
“Don't come.”
My heart dropped.
“Grace?”
“They want the baby.”
A man's voice shouted somewhere nearby.
Grace cried out.
The phone went dead.
I turned to my father.
“Find him.”
He nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“There is one place Adrian would take her.”
“Where?”
“The original Ferraro compound.”
“It's been abandoned.”
“No.”
My father looked toward the dark horizon.
“It was never abandoned.”
We drove through the night.
The compound sat beyond the mountains.
Black stone.
Rusting gates.
A decaying mansion buried among pine trees.
The place looked dead.
But lights glowed behind the windows.
Armed men surrounded the property.
We entered through an underground gate.
Inside, I found dozens of old photographs.
My family.
Generation after generation.
Every Ferraro male had the same symbol tattooed on his wrist.
I looked at my own wrist.
I had it too.
I just thought it was a family tattoo.
My father walked toward the wall.
“Your grandfather called it the mark.”
“What does it mean?”
“It identifies the heir.”
I looked at him.
“Why was I never told?”
“Because you were supposed to escape.”
“Escape what?”
“Us.”
He opened a hidden cabinet.
Inside was a thick ledger.
Names.
Birth dates.
Deaths.
At the bottom was my name.
Next to it:
TERMINATION DATE: 2041.
I stared.
“That is fifteen years from now.”
My father nodded.
“Your thirteenth birthday was when we learned the truth.”
“What truth?”
He looked away.
“The Ferraro heir doesn't die because of the mafia.”
“Then why?”
“Because the bloodline demands it.”
I laughed.
“You expect me to believe some family curse?”
“It isn't a curse.”
He opened another page.
There was a scientific report.
Genetic mutation.
Inherited cardiac anomaly.
Sudden death.
My stomach tightened.
“So Adrian wants the baby because…”
“He believes killing your son will break the cycle.”
“And you?”
My father looked at me.
“I believe the cycle can be ended without killing him.”
The lights suddenly came on.
A slow clap echoed through the mansion.
Adrian stepped into the room.
He looked almost exactly like my father.
Except his eyes were colder.
He smiled.
“Finally.”
May you like
He raised his gun.
“My little brother came home.”
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