Page 101 of His Son's Ex

My jaw twitches, recalling how blind I was. I change the subject. “My men have been unable to locate Luca.”

My mother’s mouth forms a thin line. “He might be with Linda, or dancing to the Lombardi’s tune. We can’t let him be the wild card that destroys us.”

“First step is to question security. Somebody’s covering for him. Bribes, blackmail, I don’t know, but we have to root it out.”

We leave the study and stalk through the marble corridors. The mansion feels cold without Eva, tension crackling in the air. I spot a guard and bark, “Summon everyone. Now.”

Within minutes, my personal security staff lines up, exchanging wary looks as they sense my fury.

My mother stands at my side, hands clasped at her waist, expression grim. She’s still a Bellacino and still my mother, no matter how royally she fucked up.

“Who’s been in contact with Luca or Linda within the last seventy-two hours?” I ask. “Lie, and you’ll regret it.” I make eye contact with each and every one of them.

Nothing but silence for a long stretch of time.

Finally, one of the younger guards reluctantly steps forward. “I saw Luca leaving yesterday at dawn. Said he had errands. I tried to radio it in, but…” He glances at another guard. “Jacob said to keep it quiet, that Luca asked for privacy.”

Jacob shifts uncomfortably before saying, “He’s your son. I assumed you knew.”

I grit my teeth. “You assumed wrong. Next time you keep secrets, you’ll no longer have a job here.”

Jacob bows his head. “Understood.”

Another guard pipes up. “Linda was in and out last night. Had a quick meeting with someone I couldn’t ID.”

Isabella’s eyes narrow. “Why didn’t you report it?”

He shrugs. “She’s Luca’s mother.”

I slam my fist against the wall. “What else? I don’t care how small you think it is. Tell me—NOW.”

Mumbled answers reveal that a few staff members have gone AWOL. That’s a red flag. I exchange a knowing glance with my mother.

“Fine,” she snaps. “We’ll track them ourselves.”

I dismiss the guards. As they scatter, she says, “If Luca’s compromised, half these men could be in his pocket.”

“Then we do this quietly,” I tell her, bitterness coating my words. “No one else can be trusted.”

We march upstairs to my private office. My blood is an icy torrent, and all I can think about is how badly I want results. Eva is out there. Our baby is at risk. And the conspirators are crawling all over my territory.

I vow to find them—every last one—and make them pay.

Hours later, the sun dips low outside, staining the sky in bruised oranges and purples. My mother’s accountant, De Santis, stands at my desk with a folder, glasses sliding down his nose. My mother paces by the window, tense and silent.

“You said you found something,” I say, pointing to the folder he’s holding.

He nods. “I’ve reviewed the Bellacino accounts and found three months’ worth of suspicious transfers. Small enough to stay under the radar, but enough when you add them up.” He opens the folder with shaking hands. He’s nervous.

“Relax. I’m not in the habit of shooting messengers, especially ones bringing me valuable information.”

He looks at me for a brief moment, purses his lips, then lets out a breath.

I flip through the spreadsheets. As he said, the amounts are modest on paper, but combined, they’re significant, all wired to shell accounts under coded names.

“And these belong to Luca?”

De Santis clears his throat. “Yes, sir. Luca authorized all of them. The funds link back to Felix Sokolov’s shell company and one under Gianni Lombardi.”