He presses the gun tighter to Nico’s head, just to prove he can. Nico whimpers. His hand lifts, touches his ear again, quick as a blink.
My vision goes red for a fraction of a second. I force it back. I force myself to breathe.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m listening.”
Marco’s mouth trembles like he’s about to cry, but the tears in him become anger before they can fall. “You’re erasing me,” he spits. “You’re replacing me like I never existed.”
I keep my voice steady. “No one can erase you.”
He laughs, wild. “Bullshit! He calls you papa. He looks at you like you’re… like you’re…”
His voice cracks. Jealousy is a childish emotion until it’s holding a gun.
“I filed first,” Marco says again, frantic, circling back to the only thing he thinks gives him legitimacy. “He’s mine on paper. Mine.Mine.”
Lucia’s face is tight with terror, but she keeps her posture controlled. She is doing what she did for years: staying calm so the violent man doesn’t escalate.
Except this time, it isn’t her body on the line. It’s our son.
I can see her shaking. Just a little. A tremor at her fingertips. She is trying not to let Marco see, because he feeds on it.
I force myself to widen my focus. Not to lose Marco, but to read the whole environment. The service vehicle. The gap in perimeter coverage that shouldn’t exist. The way Marco appeared from exactly the one blind angle we hadn’t expected to be compromised.
Enzo. Even dead, the man is still reaching for my throat.
I should have purged faster.
I should have…
Not now.
There is only reality. Marco is drunk. His fine motor control is compromised. His hand is shaking. His finger is too close to the trigger. He is also my son. Not in the way Nico is. But blood is blood, and blood makes things complicated.
I need Nico alive. I need Nico unscarred. I need him to not watch me execute Marco like a dog in front of him.
I need to end this without turning my son’s world into a before-and-after that includes watching his “father” die.
Impossible math.
I take another slow step forward.
Marco jerks the gun. “Stop!”
I stop immediately. Compliance is strategic. Let him feel control.
“Okay,” I say. “I stopped.”
Marco’s eyes flick down to Nico again. Nico is crying silently now, shoulders shaking, but he isn’t fighting. He’s listening to me. He’s doing what I told him.
My brave boy.
Marco’s mouth twists. “Say it,” Marco demands suddenly. “Say he’s mine.”
Lucia makes a sharp, helpless sound like she’s being punched. I don’t look at her. I keep my gaze on Marco.
“I can’t,” I say quietly.
Marco’s face contorts. “You can.”
