Rowan glanced at the tiny boy, who had just posed such a significant question with innocent certainty. He wondered just who this kid was. Either this kid didn’t know who he was, or he didn’t understand the gravity of what he was asking. Either way, he couldn’t just crush the child’s feelings. Rowan found himself momentarily captivated by Vaughn’s naive and cheerful expression.
Rowan leaned down slightly to be at Vaughn’s eye level. “Who is your mother, and don’t you have a father?” he asked gently.
Vaughn’s expression turned somber. “No, I didn’t have a father when I was born. My mommy is as pretty as a fairy. I am sure, you won’t be disappointed.”
Rowan nodded thoughtfully, considering the boy’s earnest words. Just then, a voice interrupted them from behind.
“Little master, why did you run off here by yourself? I thought someone had kidnapped you,” the voice called out, sounding slightly exasperated.
Vaughn’s demeanor changed instantly, becoming colder. “Lucas, I can take care of myself,” he retorted.
Lucas nodded in acknowledgment. “I see, you’re taking care of yourself very well,” he said, his gaze shifting to Rowan. Lucas’s eyes widened slightly in recognition and surprise. He wondered what he was doing here. Regardless.. He nodded in greeting to Rowan. “Mr. Falcone.”
Rowan returned the nod.
Lucas turned back to Vaughn. “We should head back. You need to change your clothes.”
Vaughn pouted slightly but agreed. “Fine.” He then looked back at Rowan. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Falcone.”
As Vaughn and Lucas walked away, Rowan’s mind raced. The boy had an air of familiarity, something he couldn’t quite place. And Lucas.. Rowan knew Lucas from business circles, though he couldn’t remember specifics. This little interaction had stirred something within him, a need to understand more about this boy and his mysterious mother.
Rowan straightened up, his mind still whirling. The boy’s innocence and the mention of his mother being “as pretty as a fairy” echoed in his mind. Could it be possible? Could the boy’s mother be someone he knew? Amara’s image flashed before his eyes. But there was no information about her having a son. His curiosity deepened. He thought Amara was only twenty-three years old, so how could she have a son who was already big enough to walk and talk.
Meanwhile, Amara was busy with wedding preparations in another part of the hotel. Her brother Leo’s wedding was a grand affair, and she had been working tirelessly to ensure everything was perfect. As she coordinated with the wedding designer, her thoughts occasionally drifted to Vaughn.
Vaughn returned with Lucas, his mood slightly lighter after the encounter with Rowan.
As they approached the elevator, Vaughn tugged at Lucas’s sleeve.
“Mommy is busy, so I’m going to Grandpa’s,” Vaughn declared, his voice filled with a child’s determination.
Lucas nodded, understanding the young boy’s need for comfort and attention. “Alright, let’s go see your grandpa,” he said, guiding Vaughn towards Vincent Moretti’s room.
When they reached Vincent Moretti’s floor, Vaughn’s pace quickened, his earlier encounter with Rowan now a distant memory. Lucas kept up with him, his mind wandering back to the unexpected meeting with Rowan. He still couldn’t fathom why the notorious Rowan Falcone was here in Venice, and even more perplexing was his interaction with Vaughn.
Lucas wondered if Rowan recognized Vaughn or found him familiar, but he shook his head. From Rowan’s behavior, it didn’t seem possible.
Arriving at Vincent Moretti’s door, Lucas pushed these thoughts aside as Vaughn knocked energetically. The door opened to reveal Vincent Moretti.
He was dressed in a tailored suit, looking every bit the part of a powerful patriarch.
“Grandpa!” Vaughn exclaimed, throwing his arms around Vincent’s waist.
“There’s my favorite little man,” Vincent replied, lifting Vaughn up and giving him a big hug. “What brings you here, my boy?”
“Mommy is busy, so I came to see you,” Vaughn said, his voice muffled against Vincent’s shoulder.
“Well, I’m always happy to see you,” Vincent said, setting Vaughn down gently. “Lets go inside.”
The evening was a spectacle of opulence and grandeur, befitting the Moretti and Ivanov families’ esteemed reputations. The ballroom was adorned with crystal chandeliers, elegant floral arrangements, and soft, ambient lighting that cast a warm glow over the gathering. Amara had spared no expense in organizing the lavish party to celebrate Leo and Emery’s wedding the next day. Guests from both families mingled, their laughter and conversations creating a vibrant atmosphere.
Leo and Emery, the bride and groom, stood at the center of attention. Leo looked dashing in a tailored suit, while Emery glowed in a stunning evening gown. They moved gracefully through the crowd, greeting guests and accepting well-wishes with radiant smiles. It was a night of celebration and unity, a moment when old rivalries were supposed to be set aside.
However, as the evening progressed, an unexpected tension rippled through the Moretti side of the room. Whispers and hushed conversations began to circulate, eyes darting toward a figure who stood apart from the rest. Rowan Falcone, the ultimate enemy of the Moretti family, was present, leaning casually against a pillar, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Amara, who had been busy overseeing the event, noticed the shift in the atmosphere. She followed the gazes of her family members and felt her heart skip a beat when she saw Rowan.
Rowan, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease. He exuded an air of confidence and control, his sharp eyes scanning the room with keen interest. He caught sight of Amara and raised his glass in a mock salute, a faint smirk playing on his lips. It was as if he relished the chaos his presence was causing.
Amara took a deep breath and forced herself to ignore Rowan, refocusing on the party. She knew better than to let his presence ruin what should be a joyous occasion.
Leo turned to Emery, his eyes softening as he took her hand. “Shall we dance?” he asked with a warm smile.
Emery’s eyes lit up, and she nodded, taking his hand. The spotlight caught on them as they made their way to the center of the dance floor. The guests’ murmurs quieted, their attention shifting to the couple. The band began to play a soft, romantic tune, and Leo and Emery started to dance, moving gracefully to the music.
As they swayed to the melody, the tension in the room began to ease. The sight of the bride and groom dancing brought smiles to the guests’ faces, and the atmosphere slowly shifted back to one of celebration.
Amara watched her brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law, a smile tugging at her lips. She was grateful for Leo’s quick thinking. He always had a way of turning difficult situations around. She glanced around the room, noting that the guests seemed to be relaxing, their previous discomfort fading away.