Elena
I been in shock over things that have been happening for the past few days in the Moretti estate and it scares me because I don't know what is going to happen the next day.The Moretti estate rose from the rain like a wounded beast — windows shattered, walls scorched, men patrolling the grounds with guns drawn. The storm made everything look darker, sharper, alive in all the wrong ways.I had barely stepped out of the SUV when she felt the air change.
Cold.
Heavy.
Like the house itself was holding its breath.
Lorenzo stepped protectively in front of her as Matteo led them toward the grand entrance.
"She's inside," Matteo whispered. "Hasn't said a word."
That alone was terrifying.
Adele Moretti was not a woman known for silence. Or mercy.
Lorenzo squeezed Elena's hand once before letting go.
"Stay behind me."
"Elena—" Matteo began, but Lorenzo cut him a warning glare that silenced him instantly.
They stepped through the ruined doorway.
And there she was
Adele Moretti
She stood in the middle of the destroyed living room, untouched by the chaos around her. A tall, elegant woman in a midnight-black dress, her silver hair twisted into a perfect chignon.
Rain dripped from the broken ceiling, but none dared fall on her — as if even the storm understood who she was.
Her back was to them, her gaze fixed on the cracked portrait above the fireplace. The one of Lorenzo, Rafael, and their father.
She spoke without turning.
"You always did leave a mess wherever you went, Lorenzo."
Her voice was soft.
Too soft.
The kind of softness that could slice through bone.
Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "Mother."
Adele slowly turned.
Her eyes — a chilling silver-gray — swept over her eldest son, pausing only briefly on the blood drying on his shirt.
Then they found Elena.
And everything inside Elena went cold.
Adele studied her like she was nothing more than a stain on the carpet.
"So," she murmured, "this is the girl who has cost me one son and nearly the other."
Elena's breath caught.
Lorenzo stepped forward, blocking Adele's line of sight. "You don't speak to her."
Adele raised one eyebrow. "I speak to whomever I please. Especially when she's the reason Rafael is dead."
"You don't get to say his name," Lorenzo snapped.
For a heartbeat, the entire room froze.
Then Adele smiled — a slow, cruel curve that never reached her eyes.
"Oh, Lorenzo. You think shooting him killed him?" She let out a low laugh. "Your brother was dead long before tonight."
Lorenzo flinched.
Just barely.
But Elena felt it.
Adele saw it too — and she pounced.
"You buried him years ago. When you chose power over blood."
Lorenzo's voice darkened. "He tried to kill her."
"And you killed him for it," Adele said with a dismissive wave. "How poetic. One woman, two sons, one funeral."
She stepped closer, heels clicking sharply on the cracked marble.
Elena's pulse stuttered.
Adele wasn't just dangerous.
She was lethal.
Face to face
Adele stopped mere inches from Elena.
Her perfume was cold — expensive flowers cut with ice.
"You must be Elena," she said softly. "The art student."
Elena forced herself not to look away. "Yes."
"How quaint."
The word dripped like venom.
Adele's eyes grazed Elena's trembling hands, the bruise on her wrist, the torn hem of her shirt.
"You don't belong here," Adele said. "Not in this world. Not in this family. Not with my son."
Lorenzo moved instantly, stepping between them.
"That's enough."
Adele didn't even look at him. "Did you tell her, Lorenzo? Did you tell her what loving a Moretti costs?"
Elena swallowed. "I can decide that for myself."
Adele's smile was thin. "Oh, my dear. You haven't decided anything. You're simply drowning in a life too big, too dark, too deadly for you."
Lorenzo grabbed Adele's wrist — gently, but firmly.
"I swear on Rafael's grave," he said, voice low and lethal, "if you threaten her again—"
"You'll what?" Adele whispered. "Kill your mother too?"
Silence.
Wet, heavy, suffocating.
Adele looked at her son with something like pity. Then disappointment. Then something far colder.
"I didn't come here for you," she said.
Her gaze flicked to Elena.
"I came for her."
The secret
Elena felt the world tilt.
"Me?" she breathed.
Adele nodded once.
"Your arrival… complicates matters. You see, Elena, I've lived long enough to recognize power when I see it. And you—" She stepped around Lorenzo, circling Elena like a predator. "—are no ordinary girl."
Elena's hands shook. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't. You've been kept in the dark. By him." She pointed at Lorenzo.
"Adele," Lorenzo warned.
"Tell her," Adele said, voice rising. "Tell her why Rafael wanted her. Tell her why you've kept her so close. Tell her the truth about her father."
Elena froze.
"My… father?"
Lorenzo's breath hitched.
Adele smiled, a slow, cruel unfolding of secrets.
"You think you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, Elena?" Adele whispered. "No. You were born into this war. Your father was one of us. One of mine. And he died because of a choice I made."
Elena's heartbeat turned to ice.
"Lorenzo," she whispered, voice cracking. "Is it true?"
Lorenzo didn't answer.
His silence was enough.
Adele's smile widened. "You see, my dear… you were never a bystander in this story."
She leaned in.
"You were the spark."
Elena's world shattered.
Elena staggered back a step.
Not because Adele moved toward her.
But because the truth did.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Merciless.
"My father… was one of you?" she whispered.
Adele didn't blink. "He was more than that."
Lorenzo stepped forward, jaw clenched, voice tight with something like regret.
"Elena, listen to me—"
"Don't." She backed away from him too, her breath trembling. "You knew? You knew this whole time?"
Lorenzo's eyes closed for a moment. "I found out later. Not when we met. Not in the warehouse. Not on the bridge. I swear—"
"Lorenzo," Adele interrupted sharply, "you swear too often for a man who lies for a living."
Lorenzo turned on her with a snarl. "Stay out of this."
But Adele's smile sharpened.
"This is my business. This girl's bloodline is woven into my family's history in ways even you can't comprehend."
Elena pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady the world that was coming apart at the seams.
"My father died when I was little," she said. "The police said it was an accident. A robbery—"
Adele let out a soft laugh. "Police reports. My dear girl, you were raised on fairy tales."
Elena's fingers shook. "Then what really happened?"
Adele's gaze softened—only slightly, only for a heartbeat.
"He died because of his loyalty to me."
Lorenzo's head snapped up. "Enough."
But Adele ignored him.
"He was one of my most trusted men," she said. "Smart. Valuable. Dangerous in the right ways. And he loved you more fiercely than most men love their own lives."
Elena's throat tightened painfully. "You knew him? Personally?"
Adele nodded once. "More intimately than you realize."
Lorenzo stepped between them, fury rolling off him in waves. "She doesn't need this."
"She needs the truth," Adele snapped. "Because you've been keeping it from her."
Elena's voice cracked. "Lorenzo… why didn't you tell me?"
He looked at her then.
Not as the don.
Not as the monster New York feared.
But as the man she had seen in the quiet hours.
Broken. Protective. Human.
"Because knowing who your father was puts a target on your back," he said quietly. "Bigger than the one you already have. I was trying to keep you out of this."
Adele scoffed. "And look how well that turned out."
Lorenzo didn't take his eyes off Elena.
"I wasn't lying about us," he said softly. "Not about what I feel. But your family… that part of the story was never mine to tell."
Elena breathed in sharply—like she'd been struck.
"But it was hers to use," Adele added.
Lorenzo spun on his mother. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Adele's eyes glittered with that cold silver fire.
"She deserves to know all of it," she whispered. "Especially now."
She turned back to Elena.
"Your father died for refusing a command," Adele said. "A direct order from me."
Elena's stomach twisted. "What… what order?"
Adele stepped closer, her voice almost a whisper.
"To kill Lorenzo."
The room went dead silent.
Elena felt the world tilt under her feet again.
"My father… was supposed to kill him?"
Adele nodded. "He refused. He told me he wouldn't orphan you. He said you deserved a father more than I deserved revenge."
Lorenzo's eyes widened—not with fear, but with something like disbelief.
Elena pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. "And because of that… he died?"
Adele's expression didn't change.
"No. He died because someone else found out he refused. Someone loyal to the previous don." She paused. "My husband."
Lorenzo swore under his breath.
Elena felt sick. "So my family… was dragged into this because of your war?"
Adele tilted her head.
"No, darling," she said. "Your family started this war."
Lorenzo tensed. "Mother."
Adele held up a hand.
"Your father wasn't a victim. He was a key player. He hid things from me—documents, codes, assets—worth millions. He betrayed my husband, betrayed the family… and someone out there still believes you know where they are."
Elena stumbled back a step. "I don't know anything."
"But they don't believe that," Adele said. "And they won't stop."
She stepped close enough for Elena to feel her breath.
"You, Elena Rossi, are the last link to a secret powerful enough to destroy every mafia family in the city."
Elena's pulse thundered in her ears.
Lorenzo immediately took her arm. "That's enough for tonight."
"It was enough years ago," Adele said. "But here we are."
Lorenzo turned Elena toward him, cupping her face gently despite the storm inside him.
"Elena. Look at me."
She tried—but tears blurred her vision.
"You are not responsible for any of this," Lorenzo said fiercely. "You didn't choose this life. It chose you before you could walk."
Adele folded her arms. "Touching."
Lorenzo shot her a deadly glare. "Leave."
Adele smiled sweetly. "Certainly. But before I go—"
She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a small black velvet box.
Lorenzo stiffened. "What the hell is that?"
"A gift," Adele said.
She placed it in Elena's hand.
"For the girl who has woken monsters."
Elena hesitated, then slowly opened the box.
Inside was a silver ring.
Old. Heavy. Inscribed with a crest she didn't recognize.
Adele's voice lowered.
"It was your father's."
Elena's breath broke.
Lorenzo looked at the ring with shock—then dread.
Adele noticed.
"Ah," she murmured. "You recognize it."
Lorenzo's voice was barely a whisper.
"I do."
Elena looked between them, fear crawling up her spine. "What does it mean?"
Adele smiled with quiet satisfaction.
"It means, my dear… that your father wasn't just anyone."
She leaned in.
"He was the rightful heir to the one family powerful enough to rival the Morettis."
Lorenzo's eyes widened.
Elena's heart slammed against her ribs.
Adele whispered the name like a curse:
"The Esposito bloodline."
And with that—
Every life in the room changed forever.