Chapter 2 - The Glass Cage
The penthouse of One Dalton was a masterpiece of raw concrete, polished steel, and floor-to-ceiling glass, overlooking the mist-shrouded Boston skyline. It was supposed to be my next interior design project.
Instead, it had become our prison.
"Sit down, Juliet," Storm said, tossing the silver toy car onto a marble countertop. It slid, stopping right next to his glass of untouched bourbon.
"I'd rather stand," I said, keeping Leo close to my side. My son was quiet, his eyes scanning the massive, empty room, taking in the security guards stationed at every exit.
Storm poured a glass of water and walked over, kneeling down in front of Leo. The transition from ruthless mafia kingpin to a man trying to connect with his son was jarring, almost painful to watch.
"Your name is Leo?" Storm asked, his voice softening into a tone I had never heard him use in the entire three years we had been together.
Leo nodded once. "Leo Julian Carmichael."
Storm’s hand, scarred at the knuckles from a life of violence, trembled slightly as he reached out. He stopped just short of touching Leo’s dark, wavy curls. "Do you know who I am, Leo?"
"You're the man from the big office," Leo said. "The one who made my mom cry."
Storm’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of raw agony and defensive anger. "I never wanted to make her cry, Leo. I made a mistake. A very big one."
"Are you my father?" Leo asked bluntly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Storm looked at the boy, then slowly stood up, his face hardening back into the cold mask of the Moretti patriarch. "Yes, Leo. I am."
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"Then why did you buy us a house in Boston?" Leo asked, his brow furrowing. "If you loved us, why didn't we live in your house?"
"Because," I interrupted, stepping between them, "your father is a man who believes everything has a price tag, Leo. He thought five million dollars was enough to buy a clean conscience."
