His Mother Died Under His Own Orders

She hung up.

I booked the earliest flight back to New York while calling Luca.

“Your mother is at your estate. Vivian had her beaten. You need to send someone now.”

“That’s enough,” he cut in, his voice flat, as if handling something trivial. “I know what you’re going to say. Vivian handled it correctly.”

I paused. “What did you just say?”

He sounded impatient.

“Elena, marriage does not put you above the family’s rules.”

“Your mother should understand boundaries. Being Donna does not give her access to family resources.”

My voice tightened. “You’re mistaken. She is your—”

“Enough.”

His tone turned cold.

“Even if she is my mother-in-law, I am not obligated to tolerate entitlement.”

“She walks into my estate today. Tomorrow she will be asking my office for money.”

“Vivian made sure she remembers the rules. She did her job.”

Something in me went quiet.

My mother had spent her entire life in a small town in Maine, modest and careful, never taking advantage of anyone. When Luca first took over the family’s legitimate business and struggled with liquidity, she gave him everything she had without hesitation. Every time she came to New York, she brought him homemade soup and bread, knowing his stomach could not handle much else, and delivered them to his office late at night.

A woman who had treated him like her own son had become, in his words, an outsider who deserved to be corrected.

The thought felt almost absurd.

“Luca, she is seriously injured. Have someone take her to a hospital,” I said quietly. “After all, raising you was not easy.”

His anger rose instantly.

“Elena, are you out of your mind? Since when did your mother raise me?”

“No wonder Vivian acted. With a daughter who has no sense of boundaries, she had it coming.”

“My mother is returning from Europe soon. I have a welcome dinner to arrange for the family. I don’t have time for this.”

He ended the call.

On my way to the airport, I saw his latest post.

“My mother is back in New York. From today on, I will take care of her myself.”

I pressed like.

A quiet sense of irony settled in.

When he realizes that the woman Vivian left half-dead is the very mother he claims to protect above all else, I wonder what expression the Valenti Don will have then.