Page 28 of The Hidden Heir

"Here you go, sweetheart," I say, handing him the car.

"Thank you, Mama."

"You're most welcome, baby."

I always dote on him a bit more when I'm nervous, though Michael is too young to tell. With a heavy sigh, I get up and walk over to the window. It's early morning, and the back garden looks like a slice of green heaven under this light. I suppose it's designed to offer peace and tranquility, but even the view doesn't do much to soothe my frayed nerves.

A knock on the door makes me turn on my heel. My heart jumps, and I expect Luca to come in. But Victor enters instead.

Ignoring the subtle pang of disappointment, as irrational as it may be, I smile at Victor. He carries in two large paper bags from Loyoli's, one of the biggest children's department stores in the high-end range.

"I hope you don't mind, Valentina," he says as he sets the bags on the bed. "But I took the liberty of buying a few things for Michael."

"Oh, Victor, that's so kind of you. You shouldn't have."

"But I most certainly enjoyed it." He chuckles lightly. "Seeing as I never had children of my own, Michael is pretty much the closest thing I'll ever have to a grandson. So, here we are."

He takes everything out of the bags while Michael goes on with his playtime, too busy pushing his toy cars and dinosaurs around to notice the plethora of wonderful things Victor brought in.

"You're amazing, Victor," I tell him. "I can't thank you enough."

"Only the best for Michael Petrucci."

"Ah… right."

Victor notices the shift in my expression; I try to focus on the stacks of clothes and shoes.

"Valentina, what is it?" Victor asks.

"Oh, these are sweet," I point at a mini tuxedo set. "For tomorrow, I guess?"

"Valentina."

"His legal name is Michael Peroni," I say. "I've never wanted him to have the Petrucci name."

"It bothers you that much?"

I nod slowly. "Given how he came to be and the way he's currently being used as a pawn, yes."

"I know Stefano wasn't kind to you."

"That's one word for it."

"When you're ready to say the rest, say it to Luca. It will change more than you think," he says.

"I doubt it. Luca sees me as some kind of responsibility. I come attached to my son. He wants Michael. My son is his heir and a useful bargaining chip later down the line."

Victor frowns slightly, taking some toys out of the other bag. He unpacks the smaller ones and leaves them in Michael's playpen, which keeps the kid busy and delighted for a little while longer. I take a moment to unwrap the story books.

"These are wonderful," I tell him. "Michael loves his evening story time."

"Valentina, you're not just the boy's mother," Victor replies. "It might not seem like it right now, but in the Petrucci family, the woman is sacred. The mother is holy in so many ways. Luca is merely trying to protect you."

"Yes, because he doesn't have the heart to kill me and have somebody else raise Michael," I scoff and shake the idea away from my head—the idea that there may ever be anything more between Luca and me aside from a sense of obligation. There's no point in kidding myself. "That's pretty much all there is to it."

Victor shakes his head. "Valentina, that's not true."

"Not true?" I raise an eyebrow at him.