Page 90 of The Hidden Heir

At three minutes to midnight, I’m carrying Michael, half asleep in my arms, and the duffel bag on my shoulder as I sneak out of my room. It’s quiet now. Victor left about thirty minutes ago. I watched his car disappear into the night, the wrought iron gates closing behind him.

The staff has all gone to bed, except the security detail.

They’re gathered downstairs in the kitchen, going over their checkpoint list before the night shift takes over. I have a few minutes to move freely, just like Caroline said. I remember a similar pattern at the Mancuso mansion, though I did bribe one of the boys to look the other way when I left that night.

“Where’s the boss?” one of the guards asks.

“Still in his office. Don’t disturb him unless he wants something, and if he wants something⁠—”

“He’ll ask for it or get it himself. Yeah, I know the drill.”

My soul hurts as I sneak through the ground floor and make my way across the breakfast room. I’m light-footed and fast as I reach the garden door, careful to check the camera’s angle on the terrace since it moves on a preset line. When it reaches the blind spot, I unlock the door and dash through the garden as fast as I can with my son and our meager belongings, my pulse quickening as I leave the mansion behind.

Michael mumbles something as he’s jostled on my hip.

“Shush, baby, we’re on a secret mission,” I whisper, hoping it’s enough to keep him quiet while I navigate the gardens.

Out here, there are motion sensors and motion-activated cameras, but I’ve learned the layout well enough to know which way to move. A swerve to the right, a few steps forward, a left turn and a run around the fountain before I go anywhere close to the fence. That’s enough to cover my trail and keep us out of anyone’s sight.

By the time I reach the back gate, the security guards are making their way out of the house, ready to go on their first patrol of the night shift, which means I have less than a minute to get out.

With trembling hands, I pull the gate key out of my pocket.

I swiped it from Susie earlier tonight.

“Mama?” Michael fully wakes up, suddenly confused as he looks up at me with sleepy, glassy eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” I say and motion for him to be quiet. “We’re almost there.”

I hear the footsteps. It’s a guard coming closer. He can’t see us or the gate from where he’s standing, but I know he’ll be here soon. Finally, I unlock the gate and slip out, making sure to lock it behind us before I run down the street.

“Mama,” Michael whines, but I kiss the top of his head and keep moving, staying in the deep shadow of the fence that runs along the Petrucci property.

“Almost there,” I whisper.

There’s not a single soul out on these streets at this late hour. The moon shines above, big and round and pearly, watching me as I leave the closest thing I’ve ever had to true love behind.

Upon reaching North Sheridan, I look around, nervous with every passing minute, as I try to figure out where Caroline might be. Several cars are parked around the corner, but it’s not until one of them flashes their headlights at me that I can move with certainty again.

“Oh, you got a car seat, too,” I exclaim when Caroline gets out and opens the back door, where Michael’s safe spot awaits.

“Of course,” she replies.

I kiss Michael’s forehead again, then strap him in and get in the passenger seat, while Caroline makes sure the car is secured before she takes the wheel.

“I’m okay,” I tell her.

“You’re alive, yes,” she says. “But you’re not okay.”

It only takes a minute for the tears to fight their way to the surface. The full impact of what I’ve done crashes into me, hard and merciless, as I start crying my heart out. She reaches over and takes me in her arms, holding me close as I let the pain wash over me.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Valentina,” Caroline says.

“It’s better this way,” I manage between sobs. “It’s better for everyone. Nobody has to fight over me and Michael anymore.”

“You don’t deserve any of this; you never did.”

“I love him, you know?”