Chapter 3 - THE RULES OF WAROn Emma’s third morning, she posted five rules on the refrigerator.
The paper was plain white.
The handwriting was black.
No stickers.
No childish decorations.
Just five sentences.
1. Nobody humiliates anyone for entertainment.
2. If you make a mess, you clean it.
3. If you break something, you help repair or replace it.
4. You may be angry without being cruel.
5. I will tell you the truth, even when you hate it.
Luca read them twice.
Then he ripped the paper down.
Emma taped another copy to the refrigerator.
Nico drew horns around her name.
Emma left them.
Matteo added:
6. No broccoli.
Emma crossed it out.
The war continued.
But something had changed.
The boys still attacked.
They simply began waiting to see what Emma would do afterward.
When Nico hid her shoes, she wore gardening boots to breakfast.
When Luca replaced the cream in her coffee with mayonnaise, she took one sip, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Needs pepper.”
Matteo laughed so hard milk came out his nose.
When they locked her on the balcony, she used the time to prune a dying potted rose.
Forty minutes later, the boys unlocked the door themselves.
“You were supposed to yell,” Nico complained.
“I was busy.”
“With what?”
Emma held up the rose clippings.
“Your landscaping is neglected.”
Luca stared at her with genuine disgust.
“You’re weird.”
“Correct.”
By Friday, even Adrian had begun watching.
He returned early from a meeting and found Emma in the kitchen teaching all three boys how to cook grilled cheese.
Flour covered the counter.
Nico’s sandwich was black.
Matteo had somehow gotten cheese on the ceiling.
Luca was arguing that butter should go directly into the pan.
Adrian stopped.
The boys did not notice him.
“You put butter on both sides,” Emma said.
“That’s too much,” Luca replied.
“You’re eight. This is not the time to fear cholesterol.”
Adrian leaned against the doorway.
“What happened to the chef?”
Four heads turned.
Nico pointed at Emma.
“She fired him.”
“I did not.”
“You told him to leave the kitchen.”
“For twenty minutes.”
Adrian surveyed the destruction.
“That may have been twenty minutes too many.”
Emma handed him a spatula.
“Make yourself useful.”
His sons froze.
Adrian looked at the spatula.
Then at Emma.
“Nobody hands me kitchen equipment.”
“That’s tragic.”
A smile threatened the corner of Matteo’s mouth.
Adrian removed his suit jacket.
Five minutes later the billionaire was making grilled-cheese sandwiches beside his sons.
Rosa stood in the hall and quietly wiped her eyes.
Emma pretended not to see.
After lunch, Adrian received a call.
The change in him was immediate.
Warmth vanished.
His body became still.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“Where?”
Another pause.
“Keep the boys inside.”
He disconnected.
Emma noticed Luca watching his father.
Not curiously.
Knowingly.
Adrian saw it too.
“Go upstairs.”
Luca didn’t move.
“What happened?”
“Nothing involving you.”
“That means something happened.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Upstairs.”
This time all three boys obeyed.
Emma waited until they were gone.
“What was that?”
“Business.”
“Your sons recognized the tone.”
Adrian looked at her coldly.
“You are not employed to examine my business.”
“No. I’m employed to protect your children.”
“They’re protected.”
Emma glanced toward two armed security men appearing outside.
“Apparently.”
Adrian moved closer.
“Stay in the east wing with them today.”
“Why?”
“That is an instruction, not a discussion.”
Emma’s patience snapped.
“If there’s danger in this house, I need enough information to keep them safe.”
He studied her.
Finally: “A vehicle followed one of our drivers this morning.”
“That’s all?”
“It’s enough.”
“Police?”
“No.”
Emma immediately understood there were aspects of Adrian DeLuca’s life nobody put in employment contracts.
She thought about leaving.
Not because of the triplets.
Because Sophie existed.
Her daughter was staying temporarily with Emma’s sister until Emma’s probationary period at the estate ended.
Emma could not expose Sophie to danger.
Adrian seemed to read the thought.
“Your daughter will never be brought here unless I can guarantee her security.”
“You know about Sophie?”
“I know who lives under my roof.”
“You investigated me.”
“I investigate everyone.”
Emma should have been furious.
Instead she felt tired.
“That’s not normal.”
“My life isn’t normal.”
“No. But your sons deserve something close.”
His phone rang again.
He walked away.
That afternoon, the boys became strangely quiet.
Emma found Luca reading near the window.
Nico dismantling a toy truck.
Matteo drawing.
No pranks.
No arguments.
Fear had silenced them.
Emma sat beside Matteo.
“What are you drawing?”
He covered the paper.
“Nothing.”
“Okay.”
She started to leave.
“Wait.”
Matteo revealed it.
A black car.
Another black car behind it.
A road.
And three small figures inside.
Emma’s throat tightened.
“Is that the accident?”
Matteo nodded.
“I don’t remember everything.”
“That’s probably okay.”
“Luca remembers.”
Emma looked toward him.
Luca slammed his book closed.
“No, I don’t.”
Matteo’s mouth snapped shut.
Emma did not press.
Twenty minutes later, a crash came from the hallway.
A security alarm began screaming.
Red lights flashed.
Rosa appeared.
“Safe room. Now.”
Emma’s pulse jumped.
The boys panicked instantly.
“No!” Luca shouted.
Rosa reached for him.
He ran.
“Nico! Matteo!” Emma called.
Matteo froze.
Nico bolted after Luca.
Emma grabbed Matteo’s hand.
“Stay with Rosa.”
“No!”
“I’m bringing your brothers.”
She ran.
Security men rushed in the opposite direction.
“Ma’am, east safe room immediately!”
“Two children are missing!”
She followed the sound of footsteps downstairs.
“Luca!”
Nothing.
Then she remembered.
The playroom had a service stairwell.
She ran toward it.
Nico crouched behind a curtain.
Emma seized his hand.
“Where’s Luca?”
“He went outside.”
Her blood went cold.
“Why?”
“He thinks Dad’s out there!”
Emma swore.
She ran through the kitchen.
A guard attempted to stop her.
“Mrs. Hayes!”
She broke past him.
Rain had begun falling.
Across the lawn, Luca sprinted toward the gate.
“LUCA!”
He kept running.
Then tires squealed beyond the property wall.
A dark SUV appeared outside the opening gate.
Security shouted.
Emma saw a man in the rear passenger seat raise something.
She didn’t think.
She tackled Luca.
They hit the wet grass.
A gunshot cracked.
Stone exploded from a garden statue behind them.
Luca screamed.
Emma covered his body with hers.
More gunfire erupted—security firing back.
The SUV accelerated away.
Adrian came running from the house.
He dropped beside them.
“Luca!”
“I’m okay!” the boy cried.
Adrian grabbed him.
For a moment the feared Adrian DeLuca ceased existing.
He was simply a father kneeling in the rain, clutching his son so tightly Luca could barely breathe.
Then Adrian looked at Emma.
Blood streaked her sleeve.
His face changed.
“You’re hit.”
Emma looked down.
A piece of shattered stone had sliced her upper arm.
“It’s nothing.”
“You covered him.”
“Of course I covered him.”
Adrian stared as though the answer confused him.
“What was I supposed to do?”
Nobody spoke.
Luca suddenly threw his arms around Emma’s waist.
She looked down.
He buried his face against her side.
For the first time, there was no prank.
No sarcasm.
No challenge.
Just an eight-year-old boy whose mother had died in a car and who had nearly watched history repeat itself.
Emma rested her hand on his wet hair.
Behind them, Adrian ordered the gates sealed.
By evening, the mansion had transformed.
More guards.
More cameras.
Locked entrances.
And a silence that seemed to follow Adrian everywhere.
At ten, Emma found him alone in the study.
“What happens now?”
“I find the person responsible.”
There was something in his voice she did not like.
“And then?”
His eyes met hers.
“You don’t want the answer.”
“You have three sons watching everything you do.”
His expression sharpened.
“Someone fired at my child.”
“I know.”
“And you expect me to forgive it?”
“No.”
“Then what exactly are you asking?”
Emma stepped closer.
“I’m asking you not to become the thing they’re already scared you are.”
His face hardened.
“You know nothing about what I am.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked toward the window.
For several seconds she thought he would order her out.
Instead he said, “My father built this family through things I’m not proud of.”
Emma waited.
“I spent fifteen years turning most of it legitimate. Shipping. Construction. Hotels. Security. But old enemies don’t disappear because paperwork changes.”
“And today?”
“I don’t know who ordered it.”
“Could it be family?”
That question struck something.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“What makes you ask?”
“Because strangers usually don’t know exactly when your security rotation changes.”
He stared at her.
Emma continued.
“The gate opened before the SUV arrived.”
Adrian became very still.
“You noticed that?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“One guard shouted before the first shot. Like he was expecting something.”
Adrian’s face changed completely.
He picked up his phone.
“Rafael. Lock down the security roster. Nobody leaves.”
Emma’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
Adrian moved toward the door.
“You just confirmed something I was hoping wasn’t true.”
“What?”
He stopped.
“The danger isn’t outside my gates.”
May you like
His gaze shifted toward the ceiling, where his sons slept.
“It’s already inside them.”
Related Stories
