Chapter 4 - The First Smile
The gardens of the estate were magnificent, designed in the Italian renaissance style with terraced boxwood hedges, bubbling fountains, and marble statues that had been imported across the Atlantic. But it was empty. No swings. No colored balls. No traces of childhood.
Leo walked with his head down, kicking pebbles with his sneakers.
Two security guards dressed in black tactical suits flanked the outer path fifty yards away, their hands resting near their holsters. They were shadows, always present, always reminding me that this palace was a target.
"Leo," I said, walking toward an old copper fountain where dead autumn leaves had gathered in the shallow basin. "Do you know what this is?"
"Water," he muttered.
"No. It’s a boat harbor."
He stopped and looked at me sideways, suspicious. "There are no boats."
"That's because we have to build them."
I sat right down on the damp stone curb, unbothered by the cold stone, and picked up a broad, dry oak leaf. I found a small twig, pushed it through the center like a mast, and placed it gently onto the surface of the water.
"There," I said. "The flagship of the Moretti fleet."
Leo took a hesitant step closer. He looked back at the armed guards, then at me.
"Go on," I encouraged. "Find a big one."
He scrambled into the grass. His small fingers dug through the fallen foliage, searching with frantic excitement. He brought back an enormous golden maple leaf.
"This is a monster boat," he said, his voice rising in pitch.
"A battleship," I agreed. "Put it in."
He leaned over the edge of the fountain and dropped it in. The leaf floated proudly, riding the small ripples created by the fountain's bronze cherub.
"Now blow!" I urged. "Make the storm!"
Leo puffed out his cheeks until they were round as apples and blew with all his might. The leaf spun across the water, colliding with my oak boat and capsizing it.
A sound broke through the quiet autumn air.
A laugh.
It was high, bright, and completely uninhibited. Leo threw his head back, clapping his hands together, his face flushed with triumph. He was hopping on one foot, laughing so hard that he lost his balance and fell backward into the grass.
I didn't rush to pick him up with frantic concern. I just sat back and laughed with him.
"You sank my flagship!" I cried. "Captain Leo is merciless!"
Across the courtyard, on the second-story balcony of his private study, stood Ricardo.
He held a phone to his ear, but he wasn't speaking. The call was forgotten. He stood frozen, his hand gripping the stone balustrade so tightly his knuckles were dead white.
From thirty yards away, I couldn't see the expression in his eyes, but I saw his chest rise and fall rapidly.
Leo was still giggling, rolling in the grass, covered in yellow leaves. It was the sound of life returning to a tomb.
The security guards glanced at each other, their hardened faces softening for a split second before snapping back to vigilance.
I looked up at the balcony. Ricardo was looking straight down at me.
He didn't nod. He didn't wave. But he raised two fingers to his temple in a slow, solemn salute—an acknowledgment that I had done something his millions, his power, and his armies of men could never accomplish.
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He had given his son life. But I had given him back his childhood.
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