Chapter 3 - The Nursery Intruder
I sat behind the heavy mahogany desk in Enzo’s primary study—the desk that had once belonged to my father, Don Bernardo Romano, before his death surrendered the Romano territory into a merged alliance with the Morettis.
On the desk lay three items:
The original prenuptial agreement addendum signed five years ago.
The certified deed to the Lake Forest estate, held entirely under the Romano Family Trust.
My silver wedding band, sitting beside a fresh pen.
At 1:15 PM, the heavy double doors of the study burst open.
Enzo walked in, wearing his tailored charcoal suit, his hair slightly windblown. He looked imposing, powerful, and utterly brimming with the arrogant vitality of a man who believed the world revolved around his command.
Trailing right behind him was Bianca Rossi, wearing a cream cashmere coat, holding the hand of a seven-year-old boy with dark curly hair.
The boy was carrying a box of painted wooden blocks.
Enzo stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me sitting in his chair.
"Carmela?" Enzo frowned, his brow furrowing in irritation. "What the hell are you doing sitting behind my desk? And why weren't you at the house when we brought Luca over?"
"Brought him over for what, Enzo?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.
Bianca stepped forward, offering a sweet, apologetic smile that didn't reach her cold eyes. "Carmela, honey... Enzo offered to let Luca use the sunroom upstairs for his afternoon quiet time. The townhouse in Gold Coast is having the plumbing repaired today."
"I see," I said, looking at the boy. "And why was Dante moving the crib out of the nursery?"
Enzo let out an annoyed sigh, tossing his car keys onto the desk right next to my wedding ring. "Because you've been obsessing over that nursery for six months, Carmela! The doctor told us your hormone treatments weren't taking! Staring at an empty crib every day is making you unstable! I decided it’s better if we convert that room into a study for Luca until you calm down."
He hadn't checked on me. He hadn't asked why my face was pale, why my hands were bandaged, or why I was wearing an oversized black coat to hide the heavy gauze wrapped around my cracked ribs.
He simply assumed my grief was a theatrical performance designed to inconvenience him.
"Look at the desk, Enzo," I said softly.
He scoffed, leaning down to look at the papers. "What is this? Legal documents? Carmela, if this is another one of your emotional threats to go back to your aunt's house in Naples—"
"Read the header," I interrupted.
Enzo picked up the top document. His eyes scanned the bold black lettering at the top of the page: ROMANO TRUST ASSET RECOVERY & NOTICE OF MARITAL DISSOLUTION.
His expression hardened instantly. "What is the meaning of this joke?"
"It’s not a joke, Enzo," I said, slowly standing up from the leather chair. "The baby is dead. I lost our child in the snow outside the emergency clinic on Archer Avenue while you were standing in a school hallway with Bianca."
Bianca gasped softly, clutching Luca’s shoulder. "Enzo... she’s lying again. She’s trying to make you feel guilty for helping my family."
"Shut up, Bianca," I said, my voice cutting through the air like a honed razor.
Enzo stared at me, his jaw clenching tightly. "Carmela, I called Central City Hospital last night! The desk administrator said no one named Carmela Moretti was in the ICU!"
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"Because the police put me under protective status after the Tatalias rammed my car!" I yelled, the raw, burning fury finally breaking through my composure. "Dante knew! Dante covered it up so you wouldn't cancel your warehouse raid! My baby bled out in the snow while I called you sixty-six times!"
Enzo went completely still. The color slowly drained from his face, leaving his olive skin looking like brushed ash.
