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chapter 71: Hidden Chapel

Author: Monica moon
last update publish date: 2026-08-09 18:47:12

The day had finally arrived. The sun had fully set, yet the weight of how it would unfold still tormented him. Beside him, Ken slept on, peaceful and unaware.

Today they would stop running from the world outside, the scandals, the cameras, and the endless judgments of people who seemed perfect.

They rose and dressed. No guests waited. Only Maria, the villa’s longtime caretaker, would stand as witness. Her family had tended these grounds for three generations; they understood what the small ston
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    Ken’s hand closed around the phone so hard the plastic creaked. The child’s face stared back at him from the screen solemn, dark-haired, eyes that were unmistakably his own. Three words sat beneath the image like a blade already buried between his ribs.He has your eyes.Steve’s voice carried from inside the villa, sharp with the first edge of worry. “Ken?”Ken locked the screen. He slipped the burner into his pocket and forced his breathing into something that could pass for calm. When Steve stepped onto the terrace Ken was already turning, face arranged into the same careful blank he had worn through every public fight in New York.“I’m here.”Steve studied him for a long second. “You went quiet.”“I’m adjusting.” The lie sat heavy on his tongue. “That’s what we came here to do, isn’t it?”Steve’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t push. Not yet. He only nodded once and turned back inside, trusting the silence more than he should have.They spent the next hours moving through the motions

  • The heir's mask    chapter 74:Tuscany Arrival Again

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  • The heir's mask    chapter 71: Hidden Chapel

    The day had finally arrived. The sun had fully set, yet the weight of how it would unfold still tormented him. Beside him, Ken slept on, peaceful and unaware.Today they would stop running from the world outside, the scandals, the cameras, and the endless judgments of people who seemed perfect.They rose and dressed. No guests waited. Only Maria, the villa’s longtime caretaker, would stand as witness. Her family had tended these grounds for three generations; they understood what the small stone chapel in the olive grove had always been for.They walked the shaded path hand in hand. Steve’s eyes stung once, briefly. Ahead, the chapel appeared modest, weathered, almost hidden among the trees.Maria had told him its story the night before. Built in 1587 by Alessandro de’ Rossi, a lesser Medici cousin stripped of title and fortune after choosing the wrong side in Florence, the place began as a private refuge. Over the centuries it became known, among those who needed it, as La Cappella d

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