The Little Bodyguard Part 2 – The Photograph in the Library

The Little Bodyguard
Part 2 – The Photograph in the Library
The next morning, Mia woke up before me.
That alone was unusual.
What was even stranger was finding her sitting on the floor, carefully arranging three stuffed animals in a straight line.
“Good morning, sweetheart. What are you doing?”
“Training.”
I rubbed my eyes.
“Training for what?”
“Mr. Lorenzo’s security team.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
“Does Mr. Lorenzo know about this?”
Mia nodded confidently.
“He needs better guards. Yesterday, one of them forgot to smile.”
I laughed and helped her get dressed.
At noon, Marco arrived at the servants’ quarters.
“Mr. Cataneo is expecting Mia for lunch.”
I hesitated.
“Are you sure?”
Marco nodded.
“He specifically requested her. And he said you should come too, Miss Ferraro.”
Twenty minutes later, Mia and I entered the dining room.
Lorenzo was already seated at the enormous table.
He wore a charcoal suit, and his dark hair was neatly combed. Several business associates were sitting nearby, discussing something in low voices.
The moment Mia appeared, he put down his fork.
“There’s my bodyguard.”
Mia ran toward him.
“Mr. Lorenzo! I brought my teddy bear. He’s your assistant.”
Lorenzo looked at the stuffed rabbit in her arms.
“Does he have any experience?”
“Yes. He is very good at sleeping.”
For the second time in two days, the most feared man in northern Italy laughed.
He pulled out the chair beside him.
“Then he can sit next to me.”
During lunch, Lorenzo asked Mia countless questions.
Her favorite color.
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Her favorite cartoon.
Whether she liked chocolate.
And why she always carried a small pink hair clip in her pocket.
“Because Mommy says I look pretty with it.”
Lorenzo glanced at me.
“Your mother is right.”
I felt my cheeks warm.
For fourteen months, he had barely acknowledged my existence beyond giving occasional instructions.
Now he was complimenting my daughter while looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite understand.
After lunch, Mia fell asleep in the library.
I went to retrieve her, but stopped when I heard Lorenzo speaking on the telephone.
“No. I told you never to bring that subject into this house.”
His voice was cold.
A pause followed.
Then he said something that made my heart skip.
“Especially not the photograph of Isabella.”
I stepped back.
Isabella.
That was the name of his late wife.
I had seen her photograph once, displayed in a silver frame on the staircase.
She had beautiful brown hair, gentle hazel eyes, and a smile that reminded me strangely of Mia.
When I finally entered the library, Lorenzo had already ended the call.
He was standing beside an old wooden cabinet, holding a small photograph.
He quickly turned it over.
“Did you need something, Sophia?”
“I’m here to collect Mia.”
He nodded.
But before I could leave, he asked:
“How old is your daughter?”
“Three.”
“When is her birthday?”
“September seventeenth.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
“Is something wrong, sir?”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he shook his head.
“No. Nothing.”
That evening, I found Mia sitting on the carpet outside my bedroom.
She was holding a small photograph.
“Mia, where did you get that?”
She looked up.
“Mr. Lorenzo gave it to me.”
I took it from her.
My fingers went cold.
It was a photograph of Isabella Cataneo.
But what frightened me wasn’t the woman in the picture.
It was the tiny silver necklace around her neck.
I recognized it immediately.
Because I had the exact same necklace hidden inside my jewelry box.
It had belonged to my mother.
And before she died, she had told me something I had never understood.
“One day, Sophia, you may meet a man who knows more about our family than you do.”
I stared at Isabella’s photograph.
For the first time, I wondered whether my mother’s words had been a warning.
Or a promise.