Tall, broad-shouldered. Luca, moving with purpose across the grounds. And in his arms…
Enzo.
Relief crashes through me. I stumble forward.
My lungs burn as I break into a run.
"Enzo!"
My son lifts his head from Luca's shoulder, his small face pale in the moonlight. "Mommy!"
I reach them. I take in all of him… his face, his arms, his body, confirming he’s okay.
He's covered in something dark that I refuse to acknowledge as blood.
“It’s not his,” Luca says as if he knows my concern.
"Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"
Enzo shakes his head, his eyes wide and haunted. "Daddy saved me."
"Let's get you inside.” I take Enzo from Luca's arms, needing to hold him.
Once inside, I sit Enzo on the couch, kneeling before him. His small body trembles beneath my hands.
“I’ll get a cloth to wash him up,” Luca says, leaving me alone with Enzo.
"Uncle Pyotr said he was taking me somewhere safe." Enzo's voice is small, confused. "But then Dad came and—" He stops, his eyes filling with tears. "He said he’d kill me.”
I’ll kill my brother for this. What is wrong with him?
“And there was so much noise. And Uncle Pyotr fell down. There was blood everywhere."
I pull him against me, cradling his head. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"I think daddy killed Uncle Pyotr." He whispers as if he’s afraid of Luca hearing.
The idea of it is shocking even as a moment ago, I was wanting to kill my brother myself.
Luca appears with a wash cloth and I clean Enzo’s face. “You said Uncle Pyotr threatened you. Your daddy was there to protect you, bring you home to me.”
Enzo pulls back, his gaze darting between Luca and me. His little face crumples. "I'm scared."
"I know." I brush tears from his cheeks. "But you're safe now."
Luca steps forward, dropping to his knees beside us. He hesitates before gently placing his hand on Enzo's shoulder.
"I never wanted you to see that. I'm sorry, Enzo."
I’m surprised to see Luca struggle.
This is the monster they all whisper about in hushed tones.
The ruthless, impulsive Dante son.
Yet right here and now, he looks devastated by the thought of frightening his own son.
"You came for me," Enzo whispers, his tears slowing.
