Chapter 5 - The House of Secrets
Smoke poured beneath the nursery door.
Hunter grabbed Leo, wrapping him tightly in a blanket. Lorenzo moved fast, pulling open the emergency cabinet and taking out a small oxygen mask.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered.
“No,” Hunter said. “Leo needs me.”
For a second, Lorenzo looked ready to argue.
Then the fire alarm blared again, and he nodded.
They entered the hallway.
Chaos had swallowed the mansion.
Guards ran through smoke-filled corridors. Sprinklers rained from the ceiling. Somewhere below, glass shattered. The smell of burning fabric mixed with the sharp metallic scent of fear.
“Vivian set the fire,” Marco said through an earpiece. “West wing is compromised. We’re moving everyone out.”
“Where is she?” Lorenzo asked.
“Unknown.”
Hunter clutched Leo against her chest as Lorenzo led them toward the private elevator. But halfway there, the lights flickered.
Then the elevator doors opened.
Vivian stood inside.
She held a gun.
Not pointed at Lorenzo.
Pointed at Hunter.
“Give me the baby,” Vivian said.
Lorenzo stepped forward. “Vivian.”
“Don’t.” Her hands shook. “Don’t say my name like we’re family.”
“We are family.”
“No.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Sophia was family. And you got her killed.”
Lorenzo’s face hardened. “You poisoned her son.”
“I was saving him.”
Hunter stared at her. “Saving him?”
“From you,” Vivian said to Lorenzo. “From this life. From becoming another Rossi monster.”
Leo began to cry harder.
Vivian flinched.
“He deserves better,” Hunter said quietly.
Vivian’s gaze snapped to her. “You know nothing.”
“I know you tried to kill him slowly.”
“You think I wanted him to suffer?” Vivian shouted. “I wanted it to look natural! I wanted Lorenzo to feel helpless. I wanted him to live with what Sophia lived with every day—knowing that no amount of love could make him safe.”
Lorenzo took another step.
Vivian cocked the gun.
“Stop.”
But Hunter noticed something.
Vivian was not looking at Lorenzo anymore.
She was looking at Leo.
Her face crumpled as he cried.
“He has Sophia’s eyes,” Vivian whispered.
“Yes,” Lorenzo said.
“And he’ll grow up in blood.”
“Not if I stop it.”
Vivian laughed through tears. “You? Stop it? You built this.”
“I did.”
The admission silenced her.
Lorenzo’s voice became quieter. “And I will tear it down.”
Marco and the guards waited at the far end of the hallway, weapons raised but unable to get a clear shot.
Hunter knew one wrong movement could end everything.
So she did the only thing that made sense.
She stepped forward.
Lorenzo caught her arm. “Hunter.”
“It’s okay.”
“It is not okay.”
She looked at him. “Trust me.”
Then she faced Vivian.
“You loved Sophia,” Hunter said.
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t speak about her.”
“I lost my son three weeks ago,” Hunter continued. “I know what it feels like to think the world took something it had no right to take.”
Vivian’s grip tightened on the gun.
“But this baby didn’t take Sophia from you,” Hunter said. “He didn’t ask to be born into any of this.”
Leo whimpered against Hunter’s shoulder.
“You’re right,” Vivian whispered. “He didn’t.”
“Then don’t make him pay for his father.”
For a moment, no one moved.
The fire alarm screamed. Water dripped from the ceiling. Smoke curled around the chandelier above them.
Vivian lowered the gun.
Just an inch.
Then a shot rang out.
Not from Lorenzo’s men.
From behind them.
A hidden figure stepped from the smoke—a man in a gray tactical jacket, gun raised.
Marco shouted, “Down!”
Lorenzo shoved Hunter sideways.
The bullet hit the wall.
Vivian spun toward the shooter in shock.
The man fired again.
This time, Vivian fell.
Hunter screamed.
Lorenzo pulled Hunter and Leo behind a marble column as guards returned fire. The shooter vanished through a service door before Marco’s men could reach him.
When the hallway finally fell silent, Vivian lay on the floor, blood spreading across her black dress.
Lorenzo knelt beside her.
“Who was that?” he demanded.
Vivian’s breath came shallow.
“He wasn’t mine,” she whispered.
“Who?”
Her eyes found Hunter.
Then Leo.
“Your father,” she said to Lorenzo. “Your real enemy.”
Lorenzo’s face went white.
“My father is dead.”
Vivian gave a weak, bitter smile.
“No, Lorenzo. He’s been dead to you for a long time.”
Her eyes closed.
The ambulance arrived too late.
By dawn, the fire was out. Vivian was gone. The estate was scarred, smoke-stained, and full of armed men.
But Leo was alive.
And for the first time, Hunter understood that the danger had never come only from outside the Rossi family.
It had been buried inside it.
May you like
Waiting.
---
