Chapter 3

Clara

I packed up our things and drove Leo back to the estate.

On the ride home, Leo looked at me from the passenger seat, hugging his heavy backpack on his lap. "Mama," he asked quietly. "Do you think Sir would come to my parent-teacher conference tonight?"

In the seven years we'd been married, Vincenzo had never gone to a single one.

Looking at the desperate hope in my son's eyes, I couldn't bring myself to say no. I pulled out my phone at a red light and texted Vincenzo's private number.

[Leo has his parent-teacher conference tonight. Are you free?]

I hit send. And just like always, radio silence.

Leo looked down at his shoes. "He doesn't want to come, does he?" he mumbled.

Then, he forced a brave, mature smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's okay. Sir is running the family. I get it if he's busy."

Hearing my seven-year-old try to sound so painfully understanding made my chest ache. It felt like a physical weight crushing my lungs.

I opened my mouth to comfort him, but my phone suddenly buzzed.

It was a text from Vincenzo.

[I'm free. I'll be there.]

Pure surprise washed over me. I practically shoved the screen in front of my son. "Leo, look. Sir said he's coming."

Leo stared at the screen for a second. Then, his face broke into a massive, glowing smile.

This was it. Seven years, and Vincenzo was finally willing to show up for his son.

Getting a straight answer from the Don turned Leo into a different kid. He was buzzing with excitement the rest of the way home. He chattered nonstop about how many times the teacher had praised him this semester, his high math scores, and the certificates he had piled up in his desk.

"And they voted me class president, Mama," Leo beamed, his eyes shining. "Mr. Davis is going to announce it to the parents tonight."

He paused, looking up at me with absolute innocence. "If Sir finds out I'm doing so well at school, he'll like me more, right?"

I froze for a second. My heart broke a little more, and I silently prayed to God that Vincenzo wouldn't flake.

Just this once, I begged in my head. Before we pack up and leave him forever, just let my boy have his dad.

But reality was never that kind.

Back at the house, the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed again and again. The conference was getting closer, but Vincenzo never showed up to ride with us.

While we waited, my phone gave a notification. I opened it and saw an Instagram story update from Isabella.

It was a picture of a man sitting on a rug next to a little boy, patiently helping him snap Lego pieces together. I didn't need to see the man's face. I recognized the gold Rolex and the mafia ink on his wrists perfectly.

The caption read: [He's already the perfect dad.]

Slowly, I lowered my phone and looked across the living room.

My seven-year-old son was sitting quietly on the rug, piecing together his own Lego set.

They were the exact same age. Playing with the exact same toys. Needing the exact same attention.

But Leo's father was never there for him.

Feeling my gaze, Leo paused his playing. He picked up on the shift in my mood instantly. "Mama?" he asked, his voice terribly small. "Did Sir get stuck at work again?"

I stared at my boy's dark, innocent eyes. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth.

Your father isn't busy with mafia business, Leo. He's busy playing dad to another man's kid.

The words completely died in my throat. I did the only thing I could do. I walked over, dropped to my knees, and pulled him tightly into my chest.

"It's okay, baby," I whispered, kissing the top of his head. "You still have me. I will always be right here."

Leo didn't ask any more questions. He just hugged me back, burying his face in my shoulder, and I felt his tears soak through my shirt.

The drive to the prep school was dead silent. Neither of us mentioned Vincenzo. It was as if the promise had never been made, and this family was only ever just the two of us.

That's strike two, Vincenzo. You have exactly one chance left.

I parked the car, held Leo's hand, and walked into the elite private school.

We navigated the crowded hallway and stepped through the door of Leo's classroom.

But the second I crossed the threshold, I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Vincenzo?" I breathed.

"Papa?" Leo whispered, so shocked he completely forgot the rules.