Chapter 2 - The House of Ghosts
The Caruso estate in Lake Forest was a towering stone mansion surrounded by ten acres of dense woods and high iron fences. It was built like a fortress, guarded by men in dark suits with concealed firearms.
When the black armored SUV pulled up to the grand front entrance, rain was pouring in sheets.
Elena sat in the back seat, holding Leah tightly in her lap. The little girl had fallen into an exhausted sleep, her small fingers still hooked firmly into the strap of Elena’s apron. Elena had refused to take the apron off; it was the only familiar thing Leah had locked onto.
Damian opened the car door himself, holding a black umbrella over them as Elena stepped out.
"This way," Damian said quietly.
Inside, the grand foyer was magnificent but terribly cold. High ceilings, marble floors, and dark oil paintings lined the walls. There were no toys in sight, no colorful drawings on the fridge, no signs of a child living there except for a single, small wooden rocking horse sitting lonely in the corner of the vast living room.
A woman in a housekeeper’s uniform rushed forward. "Mr. Caruso! You're back early. Is little Leah alright?"
"Prepare the guest suite on the east wing, Mrs. Gable," Damian ordered without stopping. "And bring warm food. Soup, bread, milk."
"Yes, sir. And... the waitress?" Mrs. Gable asked, eyeing Elena’s stained uniform and wet hair in confusion.
"She stays with Leah," Damian said firmly. "Call Dr. Harrison. Tell him to bring the rapid paternity testing kit from the lab. He has twenty minutes."
Elena followed Damian up the grand staircase. They walked down a quiet corridor to a nursery that looked more like a museum than a bedroom. White furniture, silver ornaments, and rows of pristine, untouched stuffed animals lined the shelves.
Elena laid Leah down gently on the oversized plush bed. The moment she tried to pull her hand away, Leah stirred, letting out a small, whimpering cry.
"Shh, I'm here," Elena whispered instantly, sitting on the edge of the mattress, brushing wet strands of hair away from the child's forehead. "I'm right here, my sweet girl."
Leah’s breathing settled back into a rhythmic hum, her small face relaxing against the silk pillow.
Damian stood in the doorway, watching them. He leaned against the frame, his hands thrust into his suit pockets, his face dark and contemplative.
"She has never let anyone hold her like that," Damian said softly. "Not even Sofia."
Elena didn't look up from Leah. "Because a child knows when love is real, Mr. Caruso. Sofia might have wanted an heir, but she built that desire on a crime. Children can feel the shadow of a lie."
Damian took a slow step into the room. "And you? You think you can just step into my house and claim my daughter?"
Elena turned her head, her eyes flashing with pure fire. "She is my daughter! She was stolen from my arms in Zurich! I carried her for nine months! I bled for her! I grieved for her for two years while you played happy family with a stolen baby!"
Damian’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched near his ear. "I did not steal her, Elena. I was lied to. I loved this child from the second she was placed in my arms. I sat by her bed every night when she refused to eat. I held her through her night terrors. Do not stand there in your moral superiority and tell me I am not her father."
"You are a mafia boss!" Elena countered, keeping her voice low but sharp enough to slice glass. "Your life is surrounded by guns, violence, and blood! Is this where a child belongs? In a stone fortress surrounded by mercenaries?"
"She is safe here!" Damian growled, stepping closer to the bed.
"Safe?" Elena sneered. "She didn't speak for two years! Does that sound like a child who feels safe to you?!"
The words hit Damian like a physical blow. He reeled back slightly, his eyes darkening with a pain so deep it looked like an open wound. He turned his face toward the window, looking out at the dark woods beating against the rain.
Before he could answer, the door opened quietly, and an elderly man carrying a leather medical bag stepped inside.
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"Damian," Dr. Harrison said, looking between the tense crime lord and the waitress sitting on the bed. "I came as fast as I could. What is so urgent?"
Damian didn't look back. "Take blood samples from the child and from Elena Rossi. Run a full genomic match. I want the results before midnight."
