Chapter 3 - Family Day
The next morning, I wore jeans.
Sophia stared at me from the front steps of the estate as if I had appeared wearing a clown costume.
“No suit,” she said approvingly.
“No suit.”
“No black tie.”
“No black tie.”
“No gun?”
I paused.
Behind me, my security chief nearly choked.
Sophia tilted her head.
“Normal daddies don’t bring guns to school.”
I looked at Maria.
She looked horrified. “Sophia, don’t ask Mr.—Luca—that.”
But I was already thinking about it.
For twenty years, I had not gone anywhere unarmed. Not to weddings. Not to funerals. Not to churches. Not even to sleep, until the security of my estate convinced me otherwise.
Yet Sophia stood there in her yellow dress, holding a tiny pink backpack and waiting for my answer.
“No gun,” I said.
She smiled.
“Now you’re normal.”
Maria looked at me as though she did not know whether to laugh or panic.
We took an unmarked sedan with one security vehicle following far behind. Sophia sat in the back beside me, swinging her legs and asking questions every thirty seconds.
“Do you know the president?”
“No.”
“Do you own the city?”
“No.”
“Can you buy the moon?”
“Not today.”
She thought about that.
“Maybe tomorrow.”
At the preschool, parents filled the small auditorium. Fathers in work boots. Grandmothers with cameras. Mothers carrying coffee. Children wearing paper crowns and nervous smiles.
When Sophia walked in holding my hand, every conversation stopped.
People knew who I was.
Maybe not all of them by name, but they recognized the way security men watched doors. They recognized the weight of my reputation. A few fathers immediately looked away.
Sophia did not notice.
She dragged me to a tiny chair at the front of the room.
“This is yours,” she announced.
The chair was built for a five-year-old.
I sat anyway.
Sophia’s teacher, Mrs. Benton, blinked twice when she saw me. Then she smiled politely.
“Mr. Moretti, welcome.”
“Thank you.”
She seemed surprised that I spoke softly.
For the next hour, Sophia introduced me to every child in the room.
“This is Luca,” she said. “He knows how to be in charge.”
One little boy asked, “Are you a police officer?”
“No,” I said.
“Are you a superhero?”
Sophia answered before I could.
“Yes.”
The parents laughed.
I did not.
Not because it wasn’t funny.
Because nobody had called me anything good in a very long time.
Then the children began their Family Day presentation.
Sophia stood on a small stage with paper flowers behind her. She wore a crown made of purple construction paper. When she saw me in the front row, her eyes brightened.
She sang a song about families.
Her voice was small and uncertain at first. Then stronger.
Maria stood beside me, wiping tears from her face.
I watched Sophia sing, and a memory hit me unexpectedly.
My mother.
My father.
My younger sister, Elena, before she disappeared fifteen years ago.
I had spent so many years becoming the man my father wanted me to be that I had forgotten what family was supposed to feel like.
Not fear.
Not obligation.
Not blood debts.
Just love.
After the performance, Sophia ran to me and threw her arms around my waist.
“You came!”
“I said I would.”
“You always keep promises?”
The question landed harder than she knew.
“Yes,” I said. “I try to.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I ignored it.
Then it buzzed again.
And again.
Finally, I looked.
Three messages from security.
Marco never came home last night.
His apartment is empty.
We found blood in the kitchen.
I felt the warmth drain from my body.
Maria noticed my face immediately.
“What happened?”
I looked at Sophia, still holding my hand.
Then at the bright classroom, the parents, the paper flowers, the children laughing.
For one more minute, I wanted to pretend I was normal.
I wanted to stay in that tiny chair, eat cupcakes, and listen to Sophia tell everyone I was a superhero.
But that life had never belonged to me.
Not really.
I crouched beside Sophia.
“I need to make one call,” I said.
Her face fell.
“Are you leaving?”
“No.” I looked directly into her eyes. “I promised you today. I’m not leaving.”
Then I stood and called my security chief.
“Lock down Marco’s apartment,” I said quietly. “Find him before anyone else does.”
I ended the call.
Across the room, Maria was watching me.
And for the first time, I saw something in her face that was not fear.
It was concern.
Not for herself.
May you like
For me.
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