Two days later, instead of waiting in the apartment, I took Nico to a charity gala.
Lorenzo's Consigliere, Santino Vella, was overseeing the event's security. Knowing I was worried about Nico, he had assigned an assistant to help me watch him.
"Don De Luca is meeting with the mayor and will be here shortly," Santino told me respectfully. "You can take Nico to the children's lounge in the meantime."
I nodded, but just as I turned to find my son, I ran straight into Renato and his entourage.
"Well, well, if it isn't Ms. Bellini, the gallery curator?"
"This is an exclusive gala. How did someone like you get an invitation?"
Tonight, Renato wore a custom-tailored Italian suit, with Isabella perched on his arm like a proud peacock. His gaze darkened the moment he saw me.
"You shouldn't be here. Leave. Now. Don't embarrass me."
Renato had always believed my commoner background was a liability, that I didn't understand the intricate rules of his world and would bring him shame. He never took me to formal events, and his men, naturally, looked down on me too.
"Renato, I saw her come in with some old geezer," one of his men sneered. "Think she... slept her way in for an invitation?"
I frowned, about to retort, when the sound of children arguing erupted from across the hall.
I pushed through the crowd and saw a chubby boy pinning Nico to the ground, smashing the small ice sculpture Nico had proudly made. My son was clutching desperately at the broken shards.
I rushed over and pulled the boy off him.
Nico's hands were cut and bleeding from the ice. Tears streamed down his face, but he stubbornly refused to make a sound.
The chubby boy saw Renato and immediately ran to his side, burying his face in his father's suit and sobbing.
"Papa, he called me names! And he said I was a liar... he said I'm not your son!" Leo Rossi wailed.
Renato comforted him, then turned a dark, furious face to Nico. "Apologize to your brother. Now."
He claimed he wanted Nico back, that Nico was his son, yet when the two children clashed, he didn't even bother to find out what happened. He instinctively sided with Isabella's son.
Nico stubbornly scrambled to his feet, his small body trembling. "Mom, I didn't. He called me a bastard first and broke my sculpture. I tried to walk away, but he hit me..."
Tears welled in his eyes again.
I knew my son. He wouldn't fight unless pushed to his absolute limit.
Renato roared, his face flushing with anger. "Enough! A liar at such a young age! You're just like your mother—deceitful and ungrateful! I ought to teach you a lesson!"
He grabbed for Nico's collar. I tried to pull my son back, but Renato shoved me aside.
Then, in front of everyone, he gripped Nico, trying to force him to apologize to Leo.
Isabella feigned concern. "Renato, let it go. It's normal for kids to lie sometimes. Nico hasn't had a father's guidance, and with a mother like that... of course he's gone astray. You don't need to be so angry."
Renato’s eyes smoldered. "Stay out of this! He's only seven and he's already a pathological liar. If I don't discipline him now, he'll ruin the Colombo name!"
Then, he raised his hand.
Nico flinched and burst into fresh tears. Renato bellowed, "Apologize to your brother!"
Nico cried, but he refused to speak.
Renato grew even angrier. Just as his hand was about to fall, the grand doors to the hall swung open.
A tall figure walked in, holding a little girl's hand. The crowd parted before him as if by an invisible force.
