Chapter 3 - The Broken Toy
The inside of the Moretti mansion was a breathtaking blend of classic European luxury and fortress-level security. Soaring ceilings, Italian marble floors, and priceless Renaissance artwork lined the walls, but every corner was guarded by discreet men in dark suits carrying earpieces and suppressed firearms.
A warm, elderly housekeeper named Maria took my coat and brought me a tray of hot tea, homemade pasta, and fresh clothes.
After taking a long, hot shower, I dressed in a soft beige cashmere sweater and black trousers Maria had provided. I walked softly down the long carpeted hallway toward Zach’s bedroom.
The door was slightly ajar.
Inside, Zach was sitting on his king-sized bed, refusing to wear his pajamas, his small face scowling as a stern-looking man in a doctor's coat tried to examine his ears.
"I don't want the stethoscope!" Zach yelled, kicking his feet. "Where is Miss Aurora?! You promised she would stay!"
"Zachary, sit still," Michael’s deep voice rang out from the armchair near the window. He looked exhausted, rubbing his temples. "Dr. Evans is just checking your fever."
"No!" Zach cried out, tears welling in his large dark eyes. "You promised! Everyone leaves! Mom left, and now you're going to make Aurora leave too!"
My heart broke into a thousand pieces at the sound of his little voice.
I pushed the door open and stepped smoothly into the warm room. "I'm right here, sweetheart."
Zach instantly stopped crying. He scrambled off the bed, pushing past the startled doctor, and sprinted across the room, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face in my sweater.
"You didn't leave," he whispered, his small frame trembling against me.
I dropped to my knees, holding him close, stroking his dark hair gently. "I promised you I wouldn't leave until the witch was gone, remember? A Moretti never breaks a pinky promise, but neither does a Vance."
Zach looked up at me, a tiny, hopeful smile breaking through his tears. "Really?"
"Really," I smiled, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "Now, how about you let Dr. Evans take a quick look, and then I'll read you a story about a knight who defeated a dragon?"
Zach looked at the doctor, then nodded solemnly. "Okay. But only if Miss Aurora holds my hand."
Dr. Evans looked at Michael in utter astonishment. "Mr. Moretti... in six months, I haven't been able to get this child to sit still for ten seconds."
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Michael was sitting in the armchair, watching me with an intensity so fierce it felt like heat against my skin. His gray eyes were dark, filled with an emotion he couldn't quite conceal—a mixture of deep relief, awe, and a rising, dangerous desire.
"Let her hold his hand, Doctor," Michael said softly, his voice raspy. "It seems my son knew exactly what he was doing when he made that promise tonight."
