Elena's POV
Inside, her mansion swallows us whole. It's breathtaking—high ceilings, gleaming marble, and the kind of detailing that screams old money. She leads us down a long hallway lined with portraits. Her heels click on the marble floors like a time bomb. Rio and I follow behind her, taking in the surroundings. I can't help the sudden tightening in my gut.
My breath catches when I stop at one of the portraits. My mother. I've seen this picture before,I have a smaller version ,but seeing it this large here in the hallway hits different. She's standing next to my dad, leaning on him. They're younger here, and her resemblance to me is striking. The shape of her eyes, her features, her hair—just like mine. The color of my eyes, though, that's all him.
My fingers trace her painted smile, and a lump swells in my throat.
"She's beautiful. Just like you, princess," Rio whispers, his hand warm at my waist. I blink back tears and lean into him, his hold grounding me.
I smile faintly, forcing myself to follow Aunt Lilly until we reach a pair of heavy oak doors. Aunt Lilly pushes them open, revealing a grand dining hall where a table groans under the weight of food. My breath catches. A long dining table with more than ten chairs stretches before us. The table is lined with a deep blue cloth, the chairs a velvet red. It's giving royalty.
"Aunty… all this for two people?" I ask, astonished, mouth falling open.
She shrugs delicately. "I didn't know what you'd prefer, so I made everything," she says, smiling over her shoulder.
Rio pulls my chair out, sitting close beside me. His hand slips onto my thigh beneath the table, firm and protective—out of habit.
"You've outdone yourself," he says politely.
"You two look good together," she says with a small smile, pouring herself wine.
"Thank you, Aunty," I reply warmly.
Her smile fades as she sets the glass down.
"How's New York?" she asks, her tone suddenly serious.
I exhale, leaning back into my chair. "It was good… until it wasn't," I admit truthfully, sipping my wine, gripping the cutlery just to have something to hold onto.
Rio's hand squeezes my thigh.
"What's going on, pumpkin?" she asks, leaning slightly forward, concern softening her tone.
I look at Rio. He nods, a faint smile telling me to go ahead.
So I do. I tell her everything , the job, how Rio and I met , about the threats, about Enzo, about everything.
Her face freezes at the mention of Rocco, that he's Rio's dad. The air shifts. She leans back, shock settling into her expression.
"You're Rocco's son?" she whispers, eyes wide on Rio.
"Yes, ma'am," Rio answers evenly.
"You knew him?" I ask quickly, my pulse thundering.
She doesn't respond right away. Instead, she stabs at her food, tension radiating from her. Her eyes dart everywhere but toward us. That sickening feeling in my gut grows stronger.
"Aunty," I say gently, reaching across the table for her hand. She stops mid-motion, fork frozen above her plate, and looks up.
"That's why we're here," I say softly. "We found out our families had history. We just want to know the truth. Please."
"Please," Rio adds, quiet but steady.
Silence. Only the ticking clock and the thunder in my chest. She looks down again, lost in thought. We wait.
Finally, she looks up, face pale. Her gaze lingers on Rio.
"You look so much like him," she whispers—not accusation, just truth.
She exhales sharply, rising from her chair. "Give me a minute."
As she slips out, Rio pulls me close, sensing how fast my pulse is racing. We sit there, silent, holding each other.
When she returns, she carries an old, dusty photo album. She lays it heavily on the table, and the scent of salt and dust fills the air. It's achingly familiar—like the one Mariana showed us.
She opens it.
My breath hitches.
"The Famiglia photo book," she whispers, flipping it open after we push the plates aside.
The first photos are of my father, smiling alongside Rocco. Enzo stands with them in several shots. Alfredo too. Men in suits and guns. My mom and Rio's mom in several others.
"That's Enzo," I whisper, pulling one out. His image makes my skin crawl, just like it did at the ball.
"Yes," Aunt Lilly says softly. "He was the Don of the Hawks. Together, the Mariano's, the Grey's, and the Hawks were the most powerful families in the Famiglia. For a long time, it was peaceful. Untouchable. Until greed came."
She stands, running a hand through her hair.
"There was an operation—nuclear codes, state secrets. Weapons. They were about to become a global threat," she whispers. "Power that could make anyone unstoppable. All the secrets about the families… anyone with access to that would control everything."
She chuckles darkly. "Elena, your father was entrusted with all of it—the codes, the safe's location. Before they even understood the power they had, your father had it all. And that key around your neck… that's the only thing that unlocks it."
My fingers fly to my necklace, clutching it tight.
Even though it's a counterfeit, it suddenly feels heavier. It all makes sense now—why everyone wants it. If anyone had that kind of power… nuclear weapons, secrets, bloodlines—they'd be untouchable.
"So that's why everyone wants it," I whisper.
"Yes." She nods slowly.
She sits again, eyes haunted. "But envy grew. Your father's enemies multiplied. Even his friends turned. A meeting was called at Bleeding Rivers, a mansion in Italy. That was the last time the families were united."
She flips a page. My stomach twists.
It's the same photo Mariana showed us—my father, Rocco, Enzo, my mom, and Rio's mom in the background, unaware their fates were about to be torn apart.
"After that, everything fractured. No one even knows what was discussed that night," she continues, voice trembling.
"The Famiglia split. Your father was assassinated exactly fourteen days after that meeting. Your mother ran with you, but they found her eventually." Her eyes gloss over ,and so do mine.
"No investigation was done. Too many enemies. Too much blood on too many hands."
I swallow hard. "So… they don't know who was responsible?"
Rio's hand slips from mine. His voice is low, haunted. And the luck of his touch makes me look up at him "My father could have killed your parents, Elena."
The words hit me like a punch. But I refuse to believe it. My aunt said my dad had too many enemies—Enzo was the prime suspect, but he couldn't have done it alone.But...it doesn't mean Rocco was involved right?... right?
I shake my head violently. "No. It was Enzo. My mother screamed his name, not your father's!"
Rio exhales, hand finding mine again, tight but unsure.
"She's right," Aunt Lilly says quietly. "Your father, Rio, was close to hers. I doubt he delivered the killing blow."
"But he hates me," I whisper, clutching the key. "Too much hate for the daughter of his ex-best friend."
"That's because he chose the wrong side," Aunt Lilly says firmly. "Not because he killed them."
Her voice softens. "Sweetheart, you came here for the truth. What you do with it is up to you. At least now, you have the roots."
Her gaze drifts to Rio. "Son, sometimes love is stronger than blood. I hope you choose the right side."
Rio doesn't hesitate. "I already did."
He pulls me into him, arms tight around me, his heartbeat loud and sure. I melt into his embrace, clinging to him like he's the only thing keeping me afloat.
Aunt Lilly rises quietly, leaving us with the storm echoing in the air.
Later, Enid leads us down a long corridor, the soft glow of sconces bouncing off marble floors. She stops at a heavy wooden door and pushes it open to reveal a room far too luxurious for the chaos outside.
"This will be yours for tonight," she says quietly before slipping away.
We shower together, trying to rinse off more than just the grime ,trying to wash away the weight of everything we've learned. By the time we crawl beneath the massive bed's dark sheets, the world feels muted.
"This is all so messed up…" I whisper, curling closer to Rio's body. My voice is a ghost against his skin.
His arms tighten instantly, anchoring me. My cheek rests on his chest; his chin dips to my head. His fingers trace slow circles at my waist each loop calming, grounding.
"Yeah," he murmurs, hoarse but steady. "I don't even know what to think of all that."
"Well, you said it wasn't going to be pretty…" I give a soft, dry laugh.
He hums low. "Yeah. You're the only pretty thing in this mess."
I tilt my head up, smiling faintly. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "My pretty girl."
Warmth spreads through me despite everything—despite the blood, the secrets, the keys. I smile.
He leans down and brushes a feather-light kiss over my lips, like he's afraid we'll break if he presses too hard.
"I love you," he whispers.
And my stomach flips , because that's the first time he's said the L word to me . He seats up slightly cupping my cheek and my eyes water for some reason.
"God I love you so freaking much , it's insane how much impact you have on someone like me Elena ..,"he whispers. I swallow hard because the words are at the tip of tongue but i can't voice them.
"I ..I never thought I'd be capable of love , .."he stutters tucking a strand behind my ear .
"Because love makes people like me weak ..,but I want you to be my weakness Elena .."he whispers , his voice filled with so much emotion.
My heart stumbles, stomach flips, butterflies erupt. "I love you too," I breathe, kissing him , pouring all my feelings into that kiss . He pulls me to him , I straddle his lap deepening the kiss , his palms dig on my waist .
For a moment, the room fades—the chaos, the keys, the ghosts. In here, it's just two hearts, stubborn and in love, holding each other in the eye of a storm.