Chapter 3 - The Son They Tried to Steal
The estate’s private medical wing became a fortress.
My guards sealed every entrance. No staff member was allowed to leave without being searched. Phones were collected. Cameras were reviewed. Every physician, nurse, driver, maid, and security officer who had been near Grace during my absence was questioned.
But none of it mattered to me while I stood outside the delivery room.
Nothing mattered except the sounds coming from behind that door.
Grace had always been brave in quiet ways.
She was not the kind of woman who raised her voice to control a room. She did not threaten people. She did not need to. She had a gentleness that made people underestimate her, and a strength that made them regret it.
But in that room, after weeks of imprisonment and fear, she was fighting for our son with everything she had left.
Dr. Matteo stepped out after two hours.
My heart stopped.
“How is she?”
“She’s exhausted,” he said. “Dehydrated. Her blood pressure is unstable, but we are managing it.”
“And the baby?”
“He is in distress.”
I grabbed the doctor’s arm before I could stop myself.
“Save them.”
His eyes held mine.
“We are doing everything we can.”
I let go.
Across the hall, my mother sat under guard in the library, still refusing to speak. She had demanded a lawyer. She had demanded to call my uncle Lorenzo. She had demanded I “remember who my real family was.”
I ignored every request.
Then my head of security, Marco, approached with a tablet.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found something in the camera archives.”
I took the tablet.
The footage showed the west wing corridor from three weeks earlier. My mother entered the hidden room with a tray. Behind her walked Sofia Bellini.
My cousin.
The woman I had grown up beside.
The woman who had hugged Grace at our wedding and told her she was “finally part of the family.”
I watched Sofia hand my mother a small glass vial.
Then she looked directly into the camera before turning it off.
My blood went cold.
“Where is Sofia?” I asked.
Marco’s face was grim.
“Gone. Her room is empty. Her car left the estate forty minutes before you arrived.”
“She knew I was coming.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the footage.
Sofia had always been ambitious. She had worked with our financial operations, handled charity accounts, and attended meetings she had no right to attend simply because she was family.
But I never thought she would betray me.
“Search every property,” I said. “Every apartment, warehouse, safehouse, and airport route. Freeze her accounts.”
Marco nodded.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Sofia’s voice came through.
“Congratulations, Adrian.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Far away from your mother.”
“You helped her imprison Grace.”
“I helped protect the Rossi family.”
“You drugged my wife.”
“She was never meant to survive this world.”
My rage sharpened.
“If you have anything to say, say it to my face.”
Sofia laughed quietly.
“You still don’t understand. Your mother was only one piece of the problem.”
“What do you want?”
“The same thing everyone wants from you. Control.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Then the delivery room doors opened.
A nurse stepped out quickly.
“Mr. Rossi?”
I moved toward her.
“Your wife is asking for you.”
Inside, Grace looked pale against the white sheets. Her hair was damp against her forehead. She held my hand so tightly I could barely feel my fingers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
My heart broke.
“For what?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“She told me if I gave birth, she would take him.”
I leaned over her, pressing my forehead to hers.
“She lied.”
“She said you agreed.”
“I would burn this estate to the ground before I let anyone take you or our son.”
Grace cried silently.
Then another contraction came.
She screamed.
And I stayed.
Not as a mafia boss. Not as the heir to a violent legacy. Not as the man everyone expected to be unbreakable.
I stayed as her husband.
Hours later, just before dawn, our son was born.
He did not cry at first.
The room froze.
Dr. Matteo moved quickly. Nurses surrounded the small body. Grace clutched my hand with terrifying strength.
“Why isn’t he crying?” she asked.
I had no answer.
Then, suddenly, a thin cry cut through the room.
Grace sobbed.
I did too.
The nurse brought him to her.
He was tiny. Angry. Beautiful.
Grace touched his cheek with one trembling finger.
“He looks like you,” she whispered.
“He looks like you.”
We named him Matteo, after the doctor who had saved them both.
For twenty minutes, I believed the worst was over.
Then Marco entered the room.
His face told me it wasn’t.
“We found Sofia’s real target,” he said quietly.
I stepped into the hallway.
“What?”
“She wasn’t trying to make Grace disappear because of you.”
He handed me a file.
Inside were financial records, coded messages, and a DNA test request.
My eyes stopped on one line.
Paternity confirmation required before transfer of Rossi succession assets.
I looked at Marco.
“What does this mean?”
He swallowed.
“Sofia believes your son is the legal heir to assets your mother thought she controlled.”
I read further.
Then I understood.
My mother had not only wanted Grace gone.
She wanted our child gone too.
Because somewhere inside the Rossi family fortune was a secret my father had buried.
May you like
A secret that could destroy my mother’s power forever.
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