The soft beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the hospital room as Liana slowly opened her eyes. The harsh light stung slightly, but the sight that greeted her brought immediate comfort—her father and brother sitting by her bedside, looking like they hadn't slept in days.
"Papa…" she whispered, her voice hoarse but gentle.
Lorenzo Moretti shot up from his seat, gripping her hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to life. "Yes, cara. I'm here. Thank God. How are you feeling?"
"I feel… much better," she said, giving him a weak smile.
Adrian, who had been pretending not to care while anxiously watching her every breath, let out a dramatic sigh. "You scared the shit out of us, drama queen. I swear if you ever pull something like that again, I'll disown you as a sister and legally file for emotional damages."
Liana chuckled softly, though her throat ached. "Sorry, big bro."
"Nah, it's alright. You're forgiven," Adrian said, putting a hand over his heart. "But only because the doctor said I can't yell at a patient recovering from looking like a swollen frog."
Liana rolled her eyes. "Wow. So much love."
Lorenzo sat back down, clearly still shaken, and let out a deep exhale. "Thank goodness... I was just wondering what I'd tell the Blacks if…"
He stopped. His face paled slightly. Too late.
Liana's brows furrowed. "The Blacks? Who are *they*?"
Adrian, who had been leaning on the wall, slapped his palm dramatically against his forehead. "Oh no. And he was doing so well, too."
Lorenzo stammered. "Ah—uh, it's not... I mean, sweetheart, you… You really shouldn't worry about that right now."
"Dad…" Liana warned, narrowing her eyes.
Adrian, still playing the part of resident clown, shook his head. "You should've waited till her frog face healed before dropping that bomb, Dad. How is she supposed to meet them looking like a ballooned-up princess from a swamp?"
Liana's head turned sharply. "Meet *who*?"
Adrian suddenly straightened, tapping his phone against his ear like it had rung. "Oh! What? No way. Emergency? My friend's dog just gave birth to a cat? That's wild. I need to see this miracle for myself."
He gave his sister and father a sheepish grin. "Sorry, fam. Duty calls."
Then, as quickly as a magician, he spun on his heels and bolted out of the room.
"Adrian!" Lorenzo called after him, but the door was already swinging shut behind him.
Liana blinked. "Did he just say a *dog* gave birth to a *cat*?"
Lorenzo sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "You've lived with him for nineteen years, and that's the part you're questioning?"
She chuckled but immediately winced at the soreness in her chest. Her smile faded a little as she looked at her father seriously. "Papa… who are the Blacks?"
He hesitated, then retook her hand. "Let's get you home first, cara. We'll talk. I promise."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're stalling."
"I'm parenting."
"You're avoiding."
"I'm negotiating."
She huffed and crossed her arms. "Fine. But I'm getting answers, even if I have to bribe Adrian with Nutella pancakes."
Lorenzo chuckled softly. "And that, my dear, is the real weapon in this family."
"Papa, is my face really swollen?" Liana asked and her dad replied
"You're still the most beautiful of them all" Lorenzo smiled warmly at his little baby
They shared a quiet laugh—something they hadn't done in a long while—and though the hospital air still felt heavy, in that moment, Liana felt warmth return.
Even if only for a little while.
----
The Moretti mansion stood tall and regal under the soft orange hue of the setting sun. A luxury sedan pulled up at the front steps, and Liana stepped out, still pale but recovering. Her father, Lorenzo Moretti, insisted she not return to her penthouse. He wanted her under his roof — where he could personally keep an eye on her recovery.
"Home sweet fortress," Liana muttered as two maids helped her inside and guided her to her room.
Upstairs, warm bathwater and lavender oil helped wash away the chaos of the past twenty-four hours. After changing into comfortable lounge clothes, she descended the grand staircase, only to meet her older brother, Tristan, entering through the opposite hallway.
He stopped in his tracks. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the hospital. Did the doctor discharge you?"
Liana gave a casual shrug, flopping down on the sofa. "Yes. I'm fine. It was just an allergy, not the end of the world."
"Liana, sit down and stop acting like you're invincible," he said, still tense.
"I'm already sitting, Captain Overprotective," she smirked.
Lorenzo stepped into the living room, interrupting them. "Tristan… did you find anything?"
Tristan's jaw tightened. "We found some faces on the footage, but none of them match any known identities. It's like they don't exist. Someone planted ghosts at our event."
Liana, who had been quietly watching them like a tennis match, finally spoke. "Are you two done with your mafia-man dialogue? Because I have questions that need answering."
Tristan raised a brow and looked at their father. Lorenzo sighed. "She knows."
Tristan blinked. "Oh..."
They all took their seats. Liana's legs were crossed, arms folded, eyebrows arched — waiting. Just then, the door swung open and Adrian strolled in like he owned the place, earbuds still in.
Liana simply pointed at the chair beside her. "Sit. You're just in time for the drama."
"Wow. Did someone die again or is this just regular family gloom?" he said, plopping down next to Liana and tossing a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
"I live for this," Adrian said dramatically, striking a ridiculous pose before settling in.
Lorenzo cleared his throat. "Liana… there's something important you need to know. Years ago, when I was in serious trouble, the Black family saved my life — in every sense of the word. In return, I made a promise."
Liana narrowed her eyes. "What kind of promise?"
He looked her dead in the eyes. "That one day, our families would be united... through marriage. You and the Blacks' eldest son."
For a second, Liana just stared at him. Then she laughed — hard.
"This is a joke, right? Is there a hidden camera? Where's Adrian's phone? You're pranking me?"
Nobody answered.
Her smile slowly disappeared. "Oh my God. You're *serious*?"
Lorenzo opened his mouth to speak again, but Liana was already standing. Her voice turned cold.
"I am *not* doing this. What do you think this is — the 1800s? You want to trade me like cattle to pay off some ancient family debt?"
"Liana—"
"No, father. Just no. I'm not marrying some stranger because of your past mistakes. I don't care if he saved your life or baked you a cake — settle your scores without selling your daughter."
With that, she stormed off toward the stairs.
"Liana, wait—"
She didn't even glance back.
Silence.
Adrian stood slowly from his seat, stretched like he'd just woken from a nap, and said with a smirk, "Welp. Told you this wasn't gonna be easy. She nearly commits arson just picking between two dresses. Now you expect her to calmly pick a husband you preordered for her twenty years ago?"
He shook his head with mock pity. "Keep dreaming, old man."
And with that, he strutted up the stairs.
Tristan sighed, standing up too. "You heard her. She's not interested. And that's final. If the Blacks want war… then war it is."
From upstairs, Adrian's voice rang out like a battle cry.
"YEAHHHH! WAR, BABY! LET'S BURN SOME BRIDGES!"
Lorenzo sank into the leather armchair, rubbing his temples.
This… was not going according to plan.
-----