The widow

The Empty Chair

Valentina De Luca

The first thing Valentina noticed was the silence.

Not the kind of silence that came after a peaceful night.

It pressed against her chest.

It reminded her that something was missing.

Something she could not name.

Something she refused to name.

Her eyes opened slowly.

A white ceiling stared back at her.

For a moment, she didn't know where she was.

Then everything returned.

The rain.

The chaos.

Luca.

Matteo.

Her breath caught.

She sat up too quickly, ignoring the pain that shot through her body.

"Where are they?"

Her voice came out weak.

A nurse standing nearby immediately moved toward her.

"Mrs. De Luca, please lie down."

"Where is my husband?"

The nurse hesitated.

That hesitation told Valentina everything.

"No."

The word escaped before the nurse could speak.

"No."

The nurse lowered her eyes.

"We tried—"

"Where is Luca?"

Her voice was sharper this time.

The nurse swallowed.

"I'll call the doctor."

Valentina stared at her.

"Where is my son?"

The room went still.

The nurse didn't answer.

She didn't need to.

Valentina understood.

"No."

Her fingers tightened around the bedsheet.

"No, you don't get to stand there and look at me like that."

Tears burned her eyes.

"Tell me where my son is."

The nurse's expression broke.

"I'm sorry."

Two words.

Two words that destroyed everything.

The doctor explained the injuries.

Valentina heard every word.

But none of them reached her.

Her mind kept returning to the same image.

Matteo smiling across the dinner table.

Luca holding her hand.

A moment before everything disappeared.

"Can I see them?"

The doctor hesitated.

"Mrs. De Luca—"

"Can I see my family?"

Nobody argued with her.

Not because she was weak.

Because they saw something in her eyes.

Something that made them afraid.

The room was colder than she expected.

Valentina stood at the doorway.

She had faced enemies without shaking.

She had walked into rooms filled with people who wanted her dead.

But nothing prepared her for this.

Luca De Luca was lying there silently.

The man who always had a solution.

The man who promised he would protect her.

Gone.

She walked closer.

Slowly.

Almost as if moving too quickly would make it real.

Her fingers touched his hand.

It was cold.

"Luca."

Her voice cracked.

"You promised me."

She swallowed.

"You promised you would always come home."

No answer.

There was never going to be an answer again.

She turned toward the other bed.

And that was when she broke.

Because Matteo wasn't supposed to be there.

He was supposed to complain about dinner.

He was supposed to annoy his father.

He was supposed to grow older.

Have a family.

Live a life.

She reached for his hand.

"My baby..."

A mother should never have to say goodbye to her child.

No matter their age.

No matter how strong they were.

A part of her would always remember him as the little boy who called her name whenever he was afraid.

Now she was the one who was afraid.

.. .

By evening, the news had already spread.

The De Luca family had been attacked.

Nobody knew why.

Nobody knew who was responsible.

But everyone was watching.

Waiting.

Because when a powerful man fell, everyone wanted to know what happened next.

Inside the De Luca mansion, the atmosphere was different.

The place that once felt alive now felt like a museum.

A place filled with memories.

And ghosts.

Valentina sat at the long dining table.

Three plates remained where they had been left.

One untouched.

Her eyes stayed on Matteo's chair.

Someone had already removed the broken glass.

Someone had cleaned the floor.

Someone had tried to erase what happened.

But they couldn't erase it from her mind.

"Mrs. De Luca."

She didn't look up.

One of Luca's most trusted men stood nearby.

His name was Marco.

He had served her husband for fifteen years.

"We need to discuss what happens next."

Valentina remained silent.

Marco continued carefully.

"The family needs direction."

Her fingers tightened around the glass of water in front of her.

"Direction?"

"Yes."

"Already?"

Marco lowered his head.

"I don't mean to rush you."

"But you are."

The room became quiet.

Because everyone knew the truth.

Luca was gone.

And the world didn't wait for grieving widows.

Enemies would move.

Allies would question.

People would fight for control.

Marco sighed.

"There are already rumors."

Valentina finally looked up.

"What rumors?"

"That the De Luca family is vulnerable."

A bitter smile touched her lips.

"Because Luca is dead?"

Marco didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

Valentina looked around the room.

At the empty chair.

At the family they would never be again.

Then she slowly stood.

"Who started these rumors?"

Marco looked surprised.

"Mrs. De Luca—"

"Who?"

"We don't know."

She stared at him.

"Then find out."

For the first time since the attack, something changed in her voice.

Not grief.

Not pain.

Something colder.

Marco noticed.

So did everyone else.

Later that night, Valentina stood alone in Luca's office.

Everything was exactly as he left it.

His books.

His watch.

His favorite chair.

She walked toward his desk and opened the drawer.

Inside were documents.

A few personal items.

And a photograph.

Her.

Luca.

Matteo.

A family that no longer existed.

Her fingers brushed over the picture.

A tear fell.

Only one.

Then she wiped it away.

her phone rang

"hello"

"Who is this?"

A quiet laugh came through the phone.

"You survived."

Her grip tightened.

"Who is this?"she ask again

The person didn't answer immediately.

Then came the words that made her blood run cold.

"Ask yourself one question, Mrs. De Luca..."

Valentina stood still.

"what question?"

"why did it happen,why did you survive,why"

she froze

"tell me who you are"she demanded

The call ended.

She stared at the phone.

The room suddenly felt colder.

Because for the first time since the attack...

Valentina wondered if she had survived by luck.

Or if someone wanted her alive.