HIDDEN LEGACIES

CHAPTER 2: Unraveling shadows

The DeLuca mansion loomed in the stillness of the night, its grandeur softened by the dim lanterns that lined the cobblestone path. Inside, chandeliers cast a warm glow over the expansive hallways, but the usual serenity was missing. Tension filled the air, and every creak of the polished wooden floor seemed amplified.

James pushed open the heavy door. He stepped into the foyer, feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders. He barely had time to catch his breath before Elena, his adoptive mother, appeared in the doorway of the living room. Her usual calm demeanor had given way to concern.

"James!" She rushed to him, gripping his arms to ensure he was alright. "What happened? Are you okay? We heard..." "I'm fine," James interrupted, his voice calm yet distant.

Sofia, his younger sister, followed Elena closely, holding a book tightly against her chest.

"Fine?" she echoed, her voice edged with concern. You nearly got shot, James. That's not exactly fine."

"It's taken care of," James said curtly, brushing past her. His footsteps echoed as he made his way up the stairs.

"Handled?" Sofia scoffed, following him. "That's your big explanation? "You're not even going to tell us what happened?"

James paused midway up the stairs and turned slightly. "There's nothing to say. Someone attempted to kill me. They failed. End of story."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "Oh, right. Because assassination attempts are just another Tuesday for you."

"Elena," James said, ignoring Sofia, "where's Dad?"

Elena hesitated, then sighed. "He's waiting for you in his study."

James froze for a moment, his fingers tightening around the railing. Of course, he is.

James walked to his father's study, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. It was dimly lit, with shelves of books lining the walls and the faint scent of aged leather.

Luca DeLuca sat at his desk, his broad frame slightly hunched as he studied a stack of papers. He didn't look up when James entered; the only acknowledgment of his presence was a slight pause in his writing.

James stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. The silence hung in the air, creating an uncomfortable tension.

"Did she say who sent her?" Luca asked calmly, but James sensed the danger in his tone.

"No."

Luca finally looked up; his intense gaze locked onto James. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"Are you hurt?"

James's jaw tightened. "No."

Luca leaned back in his chair; his expression difficult to read. "I have a strong suspicion about who might have sent her," he said, his tone calm and deliberate. But I will wait for the police report. "If they don’t manage to get anything from her..." He smiled slightly, adding, "I'll handle it myself."

James clenched his fists. "Don't worry about it. I’ll handle it."

For a moment, father and son exchanged tense glances. Then, without another word, James turned and walked out of the room.

James let out a slow breath as he entered his bedroom and dropped his bag by the door. The room was minimalist and cold.

He collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. His mind wouldn't stop racing.

Why attack him? Everyone knew he wasn't Luca's biological son. Killing him wouldn't achieve anything. Unless... it was about something else entirely. Then the door creaked open.

Sofia leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Have you ever heard of not being such a brooding drama queen?”

James groaned. "Ever heard of knocking?"

She stepped in uninvited and tossed her book onto his desk. "So, did you at least punch the assassin or something cool like that?"

James rolled his eyes. "No. Someone else did the saving."

Sofia raised her eyebrows. "Oh? And who is this mysterious hero?"

James hesitated. "Her name is Vita."

Sofia gasped dramatically. "A mysterious girl saved your life. Sounds like a romance novel. What's her name?"

James glared. "None of your business."

"Oh, it's my business now," she teased. "Is she cute?"

James didn't answer, but Sofia caught the flicker in his expression.

She grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."

James groaned. "Sofia, go away."

She laughed. "Fine." But don't forget dinners in fifteen minutes. And if you're not downstairs, I'll eat your dessert."

James rolled his eyes. "Noted."

When Sofia closed the door behind her, James breathed out. His thoughts wandered back to Vita.

The determination in her eyes and the way she hadn't hesitated to put herself in danger for him.

Why?

Back at Luca’s study, Luca sat in his study, drumming his fingers on the desk. Across from him was Rafael, his second-in-command, standing with his arms crossed.

"The girl doesn't talk," Rafael said. "She's well-trained, probably ex-military."

Luca's expression darkened. "She didn't act alone. Someone sent her."

Rafael nodded. "The timing is odd. Why James? "Everyone knows he's not-" He hesitated.

Luca's eyes snapped up sharply. "Not my blood?"

Rafael cleared his throat. "It just doesn't make sense." Killing him doesn't accomplish anything politically, so it's personal.

Luca's voice hardened. "Then we'll find out who's behind it. And Rafael?"

"Ensure this doesn't happen again. "My son's life is non-negotiable." Rafael nodded and left, exiting the room.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Elena entered, carrying a tray of food, a steaming plate of pasta, and a glass of wine. At first, she didn't say anything. Instead, she set the tray down gently, as if gauging his mood.

Luca didn't look up.

"I don't have time for this." His voice remained steady, but an underlying tension lingered.

Elena exhaled slowly and sank into the chair opposite him. "James could have been killed today."

That caught his attention. After a long pause, he said, "I know."

Elena's eyes darkened. "Then do something."

Luca finally leaned back, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "Moving him won't change anything."

Elena clenched her fists, unable to contain her anger. "How can you say that? He was almost murdered in broad daylight, Luca! This school isn't safe for him anymore!"

Luca met her gaze, calm yet unreadable. "Nowhere is safe, Elena. You know that."

Elena shook her head, her frustration boiling over. "So what? We just do nothing? Just sit here and wait for the next attack?"

Luca exhaled, tightening his grip on the pen in his hand. "The best we can do is ensure he's prepared." Elena let out a bitter laugh.

"Prepared? Prepared for what, Luca? To fight? To kill? He's a teenager, not one of your soldiers."

Luca's jaw tightened as he spoke. "He's more than just that."

Elena narrowed her eyes. "He's a boy who doesn’t even know who he is."

Silence stretched out between them. Elena leaned in and lowered her voice. "He’s not as strong as he pretends to be, Luca. Don’t forget that."

Luca tightened his grip on the pen slightly. Elena studied him, knowing more than she let on, and Luca was aware of that. Yet, neither of them spoke about it.

Instead, Elena sighed and rubbed her temples.

"If Romano found out..." Luca

"If Romano finds out," Luca interrupted her. "Then we deal with it."

Elena looked into his eyes; her expression now unreadable. She then reached for the tray and pushed the plate of food closer to him.

"Eat," she murmured, her voice softer now.

Luca didn't move at first. Then, he finally picked up the fork. Elena watched him take his first bite before getting up. She paused at the door and glanced back at him. Her voice was soft, but her words carried weight.

"You might be able to handle what’s coming, but can James?" She didn’t wait for a response before walking away. Luca sat and stared at the place where she had just been. He then set down his fork and reached for his whiskey instead.

Meanwhile, back in James' room, it was silent, too quiet. James ran a hand through his hair, trying to get some sleep. Then there was a gentle knock on the door. James stiffened; he already knew who it was. "Come in," he called. The door opened, and Elena entered, carrying a tray.

Elena closed the door quietly behind her, skillfully balancing a tray in her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked softly.

James let out a deep, humorless chuckle. "Something like that."

Elena walked over and set the tray down on his bedside table. "You should eat."

James glanced at the tray, which held soup, bread, and tea, comfort food.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

Elena sat on the edge of the chair opposite him, studying him closely. She noticed the faint sheen of sweat on his skin and the tension in his shoulders. Her gaze drifted to the knife on the nightstand.

"Is it about the attack?" she asked.

James tightened his jaw in response.

He didn't reply. Elena exhaled and leaned back slightly. "You're not invincible, James." James let out a dry laugh. "Tell that to the people who keep trying to kill me." Elena's expression darkened.

"This isn't a joke."

James met her gaze, his expression was impossible to understand. "I didn't say it was."

Elena's lips pressed into a thin line. "Luca should have done more."

James scoffed. "Luca doesn't care. Not really."

Elena furrowed her eyebrows. "That's not true."

James sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Look, I know how this works. You think he's going to pull me out of school and lock me in this house? But that's not his style, and you know it."

Elena was silent for a long moment. Finally, she said, "You're right." James blinked, surprised. Elena's gaze softened slightly. "Luca won't pull you out; he believes the best way to protect you is to prepare you."

James curled his fingers into fists.

"I don't want to be prepared. I don't need Dad's help. I want to live my life without having to look over my shoulder every five seconds."

Elena sighed.

"I know."

James turned to her, really looking at her for the first time.

For the first time, he noticed the subtle concern in her expression. The way her fingers tapped lightly on the arm of the chair was an old nervous habit. She was afraid of him, and this was unexpected.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Elena's eyes flickered.

She hesitated.

Then she said, "I'm afraid that you’ll become exactly what they want you to be."

James stopped. Those words pierced him like a blade slipping under his skin. He swallowed hard and looked away.

"It’s too late for that," he replied.

Elena exhaled sharply and shook her head.

"No, it isn't."

A long silence settled between them. Finally, Elena stood up and gestured toward the tray. "Eat, James. Please."

James didn’t respond, but when she turned toward the door, he picked up the spoon.

Elena paused before leaving and glanced back at him.

"Good night."

James glanced down at the tray and then back at her. With a grin, he said, "Goodnight, Elena.

Elena's breath caught in her throat.

She didn’t correct him or say anything. Instead, she turned off the light and closed the door behind her.

James remained silent, staring at the untouched food. The words from earlier still echoed in his mind: "You will become exactly what they want you to be."

He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

Too late for that.