Chapter 9 - The Price of a MotherCamryn did not remember crossing the office.
One moment she was standing with the phone in her hand.
The next, she was in the hallway, grabbing her coat from the chair, Leo crying behind her.
“Cam!”
His voice followed her like a hand.
She stopped.
Only for a second.
If she turned around, she would crumble.
Her mother was sick. Weak. Terrified. Somewhere with Vincent DeLuca, a man who had killed Isabella, attacked the building, and smiled at dinner while a child remembered him.
Camryn had no weapon.
No power.
No family name.
No army in black suits.
All she had was a boy calling her name and a mother who had once escaped this family only to be dragged back into its darkness through her daughter.
Matteo caught up to her near the service elevator.
“You are not going alone.”
Camryn spun on him. “Then move faster.”
Rocco appeared with keys. “Cars are ready.”
Matteo’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Vincent.
Again.
But this time, the warmth was gone.
“Miss Jenkins,” Vincent said. “I assume you’re listening.”
Camryn grabbed the phone from Matteo.
“Where is my mother?”
“Alive.”
Camryn closed her eyes.
“For now,” Vincent added.
Matteo stepped closer, but Camryn held up a hand.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Vincent chuckled. “Such an American question. Direct. Practical. Desperate.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to leave the DeLuca residence tonight. I want you to tell the police, the press, and anyone else who asks that Matteo DeLuca intimidated you into coaching his unstable son.”
Camryn’s hand shook.
Matteo’s face hardened.
Vincent continued, “You will say the child never identified me. You will say you found no evidence. You will say Matteo became violent and you feared for your life.”
Camryn looked through the open doorway.
Leo stood in the hall with Rocco behind him, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Cam,” he whispered.
Vincent’s voice lowered. “Or your mother’s next treatment becomes unnecessary.”
Camryn’s knees nearly gave out.
Matteo took the phone gently from her hand.
“You touch Denise Jenkins,” he said, “and there is nowhere on earth—”
Camryn grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
He looked at her.
She shook her head.
Do not become what he needs.
Matteo inhaled hard through his nose.
Then he said into the phone, “You want a trade.”
Vincent laughed. “I want obedience.”
“You won’t get it.”
“From you? No. From her? A sick mother is a powerful leash.”
Camryn stepped closer to the phone.
“Let me speak to her.”
A pause.
Rustling.
Then Denise Jenkins’s weak voice came through.
“Camryn?”
“Mom.” Camryn covered her mouth. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“No. Don’t apologize.”
Denise’s voice shook. “I told you to leave.”
“I’m going to get you.”
“No,” Denise whispered. “Listen to me. Isabella tried to run the night she died. She was going to take Leo and the evidence to federal protection.”
Matteo went still.
Camryn looked at him.
Denise continued, breathless, like she was fighting someone for time. “There was another copy. Not in the blue room. She didn’t trust the house.”
Vincent’s voice snapped in the background. “Enough.”
Denise shouted one final word.
“Locket!”
The call cut off.
Camryn stared at the phone.
“Locket?” Rocco asked.
Matteo turned toward the blue room. “Isabella wore a locket.”
They moved fast.
Serafina tried to follow, but Matteo stopped her with one look.
“No.”
“She was my daughter-in-law.”
“And Vincent is your brother-in-law. Choose carefully where you stand.”
The words struck hard.
Serafina remained in the hallway, pale and silent.
Inside the blue room, Matteo opened drawer after drawer. Jewelry boxes. Letters. Scarves. Old perfume bottles.
Nothing.
Camryn looked at Isabella’s photograph.
In every image, Isabella wore a small gold locket.
But in the photo from the hidden compartment—the one taken near the car days before her death—the locket was missing.
“She gave it away,” Camryn said.
Matteo turned. “To whom?”
Camryn thought of her mother’s fear.
Her warnings.
Her presence in the old nursery photo.
Denise Jenkins had not just been Isabella’s maid.
She had been trusted.
“My mother,” Camryn whispered.
Rocco’s phone buzzed. He checked it.
“Boss, hospital security footage just came in.”
The screen showed a wheelchair rolling through a side exit.
Denise sat slumped in it.
Behind her stood Vincent’s man.
But the nurse pushing the chair turned her face toward the camera for one second.
Camryn gasped.
“That’s not a nurse.”
Matteo leaned closer.
The woman had dark hair, a thin face, and a scar near her chin.
Rocco swore. “Mara Bellini.”
“Who is that?” Camryn asked.
Matteo’s voice turned grim.
“My wife’s former bodyguard.”
Camryn stared at him. “Former?”
“She disappeared the night Isabella died. We thought she was killed.”
Rocco rewound the footage.
Mara looked directly into the camera.
Then she lifted two fingers to her chest.
Touched an invisible necklace.
A locket.
“She wants us to follow,” Camryn said.
Matteo’s eyes narrowed. “Or Vincent wants a trap.”
“Maybe both.”
Leo appeared at the doorway, clutching his blanket.
“No leave,” he cried.
Camryn rushed to him and knelt.
His small hands grabbed her face. “Stay.”
Her heart split.
“I have to get my mom.”
Leo shook his head violently. “Bad red man.”
“I know.”
“Cam no boom.”
Camryn pulled him close. “I will come back.”
The promise tasted dangerous.
Because she did not know if it was true.
Matteo crouched beside them.
For once, he did not command.
He asked.
“Leo, can Papa go with Cam?”
Leo looked at him through tears.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Papa bring Cam back.”
Matteo’s face changed.
May you like
A vow settled over him.
“Yes,” he said. “Papa brings Cam back.”
