Page 114 of Sins of the Son

Papà had Amara on his lap, rocking her back and forth, soothing her as she continued to cry softly.

At one point, Vito came in. His shirt was torn, and he had a split lip.

Papà put Amara into Gabriella’s care and we approached Vito.

Vito lowered his head and swiped at the back of his neck. “I’m not sure how to say this, boss.”

It was obvious from his appearance that he found the staff member who'd lured me away from Milana under false pretenses.

I placed my left hand over my right fist. “Tell me.”

Vito took a deep breath. “I guess your plans to go into the caves with Milana were discussed at dinner last night, so the person knew you would be there. They bribed a new staff member we brought on during the harvest who wasn’t as loyal to the family. He swears he didn’t know what they had planned.”

Losing patience, I said, “Vito, who?”

He shifted from foot to foot. He glanced up between me, my father, and Enzo. After taking another fortifying breath, he blurted out, “Renata. It was Renata. I’m sorry, Enzo.”

We both stared at Enzo. His face was a mask of stone. Without saying a word, he stormed out.

Papà raised his chin to Vito, who understood the silent command and followed Enzo.

I stood there staring straight ahead, trying to take the information in past all the pain and fear.

Renata.

It had been Renata. This whole time. How had I missed that?

“Don’t.”

I looked up at my father.

He shook his head. “Don’t. There will be time for that later. Right now, we focus on Milana.”

As though summoned by those words, the doctor entered the waiting room.

I rushed over to him, fear tightening my chest.

The doctor gave me a hesitant smile. “The good news is she’s alive. She’s going to pull through just fine.”

I closed my eyes and sent a prayer up to God for saving her, as I heard an outburst of joy from the rest of the room.

The doctor continued. “Unfortunately….”

We fell silent as all eyes focused on the doctor.

“…. it’s too soon to tell if the baby will survive.”

CHAPTER 40

BARONE

The door to the cottage was splintered and hanging open on only one hinge. As I stepped over the threshold, the silence belied the wreckage. Furniture was upended. Glass from broken art frames lay in shattered fragments scattered over the tile floor.

Through the dark gloom, I found Enzo sitting on the edge of the bed in the main bedroom.

He was staring at the wall. His hands were bruised and bloodied.

Without looking up, he said, “She’s gone.”

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