Chapter 6 - The Confrontation at the Savoy
The world stopped spinning.
Giana’s breath seized in her throat as her eyes remained locked with Luca’s through the heavy rain and glass. He looked older—far older than his thirty-eight years. Lines of fatigue were etched deep around his jaw, his dark hair silvered at the temples, his posture carrying a brooding, ominous weight.
Beside her, Julian reacted instantly. He stepped in front of Giana and Leo, blocking the line of sight from the street.
"Leo, go inside with Miss Clara," Julian commanded sharply to the gallery assistant. "Now."
"Mummy?" Leo asked, sensing the sudden shift in the air, his small brow furrowed.
"Go with Clara, sweetheart," Giana said, her voice forced into composure as she squeezed his small hand one last time. "Mummy will be right inside."
The assistant quickly whisked Leo away into the back office, shutting the heavy mahogany door.
Out on the street, the door of the silver Bentley opened.
Luca stepped out into the rain. He wore a long charcoal coat, unbothered by the water falling on his shoulders. He didn't look at Julian. He didn't look at the luxury vehicles around him. His eyes remained fixed entirely on Giana, filled with a mixture of disbelief, raw agony, and something dangerously close to obsession.
He walked across the street, his heavy leather shoes striking the wet pavement with deliberate slowness.
Julian stepped out onto the gallery steps, reaching into his coat toward his holster. "That's far enough, Bellini."
Luca didn't even draw a weapon. He didn't even look at Julian's hand. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, five feet away from Giana, his breathing heavy and uneven.
"Giana..." His voice was a broken whisper that seemed to rip directly from his chest. "You're alive."
Giana stood on the top step, looking down at him. She didn't flinch. She didn't back away. The fear that used to consume her whenever he was angry had completely vanished, replaced by an impenetrable wall of ice.
"You shouldn't be here, Mr. Bellini," she said softly, her English refined and distant.
Luca flinched as if she had struck him across the face. "Mr. Bellini?" He took a step up the stairs. "Giana, I spent five years... five years searching every continent on this earth for you. I thought you died in that storm. I thought..."
His eyes flicked toward the gallery door where Leo had just vanished. His voice cracked completely.
"That boy..." Luca stammered, his hand trembling as he reached toward her. "He has my eyes, Giana. He has my father's brow. He's... he's my son."
"He is my son," Giana corrected coldly, stepping back just enough that his hand fell short. "His name is Leo Vance. He has no father."
"Don't lie to me!" Luca roared, the sudden burst of his old authority echoing off the stone buildings, though it sounded desperate now, lacking its old terror. "He's five years old! The timeline matches! You were pregnant with my child when you ran!"
"I didn't run, Luca," Giana said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper that cut through his rage like a scalpel. "I left. Because while I was bleeding from a gunshot wound on your floor, you were holding another woman's hand."
Luca froze. The color drained from his face until he looked like a corpse standing in the rain.
"I can explain that..." Luca pleaded, his voice breaking into a ragged sob. "You don't know what happened that night, Giana! You don't know what she had over me!"
"I don't care," Giana said simply. "Whatever secret you chose over your wife and child was your choice. And this... this life is mine."
She turned toward the door.
"Giana, wait!" Luca lunged forward, but Julian instantly stepped between them, pulling a suppressed firearm and pressing it firmly against Luca's ribs.
"Touch her," Julian growled, "and I'll finish what should have happened five years ago."
Luca ignored the gun pressed against his side. His eyes stayed glued to Giana's retreating back.
"I won't let you hide him from me, Giana!" Luca shouted into the rain, tears mixing with the water streaming down his face. "He is a Bellini! He belongs in Chicago!"
Giana paused at the threshold of the gallery door. She turned her head slightly, looking at him over her shoulder with an expression of profound pity.
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"He is a Vance," she said softly. "And if you ever come near my son again, Luca... I will show the world every dark secret you sacrificed your family to protect."
She walked inside, and the glass door clicked shut, locking him out in the cold.
