THE BROTHER WHO NEVER TRULY LEFT

The gunshot shattered the quiet of the estate.

Luca didn’t hesitate. He pulled a dark steel handgun from a holster hidden beneath his suit jacket and sprinted out the clinic door.

Vanessa stood frozen, her face drained of all color. For the first time all evening, the cold, calculating bride-to-be looked genuinely terrified.

“They found him,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Oh my God, they found him.”

I didn’t wait for permission. I slid off the examination table, ignoring the sharp pull of the fresh stitches in my side, and ran after Luca.

I was a mother. The thought of a seventeen-year-old boy alone in the dark with a gunman overrode my common sense. Leo was a quiet, polite kid who always offered to carry my heavy laundry baskets up the estate stairs. He didn’t deserve to be a casualty in a mafia war.

I reached the heavy wooden doors of the stable just seconds after Luca.

The horses were panicking, kicking at their stalls in a frenzy.

“Leo!” Luca shouted, his gun raised, scanning the shadows.

No answer.

The single overhead bulb was swinging violently, casting long, moving shadows across the hay-covered floor.

At the far end of the corridor, the door to Leo’s small living quarters hung wide open. The lock was completely shattered.

Luca moved forward with terrifying precision, clearing the space. I followed closely behind, my heart hammering in my throat.

We stepped into the small room.

It was empty.

The bed was overturned. The small dresser had been ripped apart, clothes scattered everywhere. A struggle had happened here, and it had been violent.

“He’s gone,” Luca said, his jaw tight. He lowered his weapon slightly. “They took my nephew.”

I walked further into the room, my boots crunching on broken glass. The small window facing the rear access road had been smashed inward.

That was when I saw it.

Glinting in the hay near the shattered window was a thick silver chain.

I knelt down and picked it up.

It was a heavy silver pocket watch. The casing was dented, as if it had been dropped during a fight.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly, holding it out.

Luca turned. The moment his eyes landed on the watch, he froze. He walked over and took it from my hands.

He pressed the small latch on the side. The watch popped open.

Inside the cover was a small, engraved inscription.

To Dominic. For when time runs out. - Dad

“This was my brother’s watch,” Luca whispered. “My father gave it to him the week before he died.”

“Vanessa must have given it to Leo,” I said.

“No.” Luca shook his head slowly. His eyes were completely dark. “Vanessa didn’t have this watch. My father buried Dominic with it.”

The implication hit me like a physical blow.

If Dominic was buried with the watch seventeen years ago, there was only one way it could be here now.

Someone had dug up the grave.

Or Dominic was never in it.

Before I could process the horror of that thought, the sound of high heels clicking against the concrete floor echoed from the stable hallway.

Vanessa appeared in the doorway. She was breathing heavily, her pristine white dress stained with dirt around the hem. Diane Keller limped in behind her, looking exhausted but determined.

Vanessa saw the silver watch in Luca’s hand.

She let out a broken sob and covered her mouth.

“He’s alive,” Vanessa cried, tears spilling over her flawless makeup. “Dominic is alive.”

Luca stared at her. The fury radiating from him was palpable.

“You told me my brother was dead, Vanessa. You told me my father killed him.”

“I thought he was!” Vanessa yelled, her voice bordering on hysterical. “I watched the boat explode, Luca! I thought your father orchestrated it because Dominic wanted to leave the family. I took the baby and ran because I was terrified!”

“Then how do you explain this?” Luca held up the watch.

Vanessa shook her head wildly. “I didn’t give that to Leo! I haven’t spoken to Leo in a month! I placed him here anonymously through an agency. I just wanted to keep him close, to make sure he was safe, but I never told him who he was!”

Diane stepped forward. She looked at the watch, then at Vanessa.

“If you didn’t give the boy the watch,” Diane said quietly, “then who did?”

Suddenly, a low groan came from outside the broken window.

Luca instantly raised his gun, stepping toward the shattered glass. He looked down into the darkness of the access road.

Lying in the mud, clutching his stomach, was one of the estate’s heavily armed security guards.

Luca holstered his weapon and vaulted through the window, dropping into the mud beside the injured man. I climbed through right behind him, my medical training kicking in automatically.

The guard was bleeding from a deep knife wound to his abdomen.

I dropped to my knees, pressing my hands hard against the wound to stop the bleeding. “Hold still, you’re going to be okay.”

Luca grabbed the guard’s tactical vest.

“Who did this?” Luca demanded. “Who took the boy?”

The guard coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. He looked up at Luca with wide, terrified eyes.

“It wasn’t a hit squad, Mr. Moretti,” the guard gasped.

“Then who?”

The guard swallowed hard.

“It was your father.”

Luca went completely still.

“My father has been in a wheelchair for five years,” Luca said coldly.

“He didn’t take the boy himself,” the guard wheezed, his eyes rolling back slightly. “He sent a woman.”