Chapter 4 - THE FATHER WHO DIDN'T SMILE
Luca's father arrived at our penthouse the following evening.
Vittorio Varenna was sixty-eight.
Silver-haired.
Elegant.
And terrifying in a way that had nothing to do with raised voices.
He had built the Varenna organization from a collection of waterfront businesses into one of the most powerful criminal empires in New England.
Luca respected him.
Feared him.
And had spent most of his life trying to earn his approval.
Vittorio entered the study without knocking.
“Luca.”
“Father.”
His eyes moved toward me.
“Evelyn.”
I nodded.
“Mr. Varenna.”
He sat.
“I hear you've been asking questions about your accident.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my wife may be pregnant.”
Silence.
Vittorio looked at me.
Then back at Luca.
For one brief moment, something flashed across his face.
Not surprise.
Not happiness.
Fear.
Then it disappeared.
“That's impossible,” he said.
Luca leaned forward.
“Apparently not.”
Vittorio's jaw tightened.
“Have you considered the obvious explanation?”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Luca stood.
“Careful.”
Vittorio looked at him.
“I'm simply saying—”
“No.”
Luca's voice was cold.
“You will not accuse my wife of infidelity.”
Vittorio stared.
For the first time in his life, Luca had openly challenged him.
The room became painfully quiet.
Then Vittorio stood.
“You're making a mistake.”
Luca didn't move.
“Then it's mine to make.”
His father looked at me once more.
And I saw it again.
May you like
Fear.
Whatever had happened twelve years earlier, Vittorio knew more than he was saying.
