CHAPTER ONE
882 Words
The front gate of the Marcelli estate rarely saw much activity before noon. Anyone with a reason to be there understood the rules. Guards didn’t take kindly to early surprises, and neither did their boss.
So when a baby stroller appeared on the security monitors at 6:03 a.m., unmanned and oddly still, it made the men at the front post sit up straighter.
The oldest of them squinted at the screen, then at the gate, then back again. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”
“No one’s around,” the younger guard said, already checking the perimeter. “Who the hell leaves a stroller on the driveway like that?”
They didn’t move immediately. This was Lorenzo Marcelli’s property. Things left unattended weren’t always forgotten—they were warnings, or worse, distractions.
Ten minutes passed. The stroller stayed. Still no sign of anyone nearby.
Then came the sound.
The baby was awake.
The younger guard winced and reached for the intercom. “Sir, we’ve got a situation at the gate.”
The reply came two seconds later.
“Speak.”
“There’s a kid out here. Real young. In a stroller. No one around.”
Silence.
And then, “Handle it.”
⸻
Inside the mansion, Lorenzo Marcelli was already dressed. Crisp white shirt, dark slacks, sleeves rolled up. He sat in his office, tie loosened, one hand around a glass of Scotch, the other resting on the arm of his chair as he watched the lake outside shift under the morning sun.
He didn’t blink, either.
“You know,” he said, his voice smooth but heavy. “The kind of man I hate the most are those who lack spine. They’re easy to break.”
Behind him, the man standing hadn’t moved an inch. Sweat clung to his hairline. The room was fully air-conditioned, but he was overheating anyway.
“I—I didn’t mean to fail, Signore Marcelli,” he stammered, lowering his eyes. “We followed the lead. We did everything—”
Lorenzo stood up, slow and silent. He faced the man and narrowed his eyes.
“You don’t come back until you have what I asked for,” he said. “Am I clear?”
“But the contact—”
“Did I ask for your excuses?” His voice dropped, quiet but laced with threat.
The man opened his mouth again, but before anything else could be said, there was a knock on the door.
Lorenzo clenched his jaw. “Enter.”
One of his guards stepped in. The poor bastard looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Well?” Lorenzo snapped.
“There’s a situation at the gate.”
“You interrupted me for this?”
“There’s a baby.”
Lorenzo blinked.
The man continued. “A baby, sir. In a stroller. No one with him.”
Lorenzo didn’t look impressed. “And what do you want me to do with that information? Send him an invitation to dinner?”
The guard hesitated. “We think he might be yours.”
Silence fell so fast, the ticking clock behind him sounded too loud.
Lorenzo stared at him. “Say that again.”
The guard cleared his throat. “He has a note. It says his name is Leonardo. Leo Marcelli. No last name signed. And there’s… a birth certificate, sir.”
His eyes didn’t move, but his hand curled slowly around the edge of the desk.
“You think someone dropped a child on my doorstep and thought a birth certificate would convince me he’s mine?”
“I—No, sir. I mean, yes. But… he looks like you.”
The other man in the room was still frozen where he stood, now trying very hard to disappear into the floor.
Lorenzo exhaled once, clipped. “Bring him inside.”
“Sir?”
“Did I stutter?”
⸻
The baby wasn’t crying anymore. He was chewing the ear of a stuffed dog that looked like it had been through war.
His curls were messy, cheeks round, face tired from what was probably a very long night. He stared up at the guards like they were toys. Not frightened. Not even shy.
Lorenzo stood a few feet away, unmoving.
The boy pointed. “You look like me.”
No one dared to speak.
Lorenzo looked down. The kid was small. Couldn’t have been more than five. But his eyes—dark gray, sharp—matched his own.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Leo,” the boy answered, still hugging the stuffed dog. “My mommy said my daddy lives in a big house. Are you my daddy?”
The silence stretched again.
One of the guards took a discreet step back.
Lorenzo stared at the boy, face unreadable. “Where’s your mother now?”
Leo shrugged. “She said she had to go. Said you’d take care of me now. Are you gonna?”
Lorenzo didn’t speak. He turned around and walked out of the room.
The guard closest to the child crouched beside him. “Uh… come on, kid. Let’s get you something to eat.”
Leo looked around. “Is he always mad?”
The guard looked helpless. “He’s… always like that.”
- Writer
