Far beneath the quiet streets of the city, hidden behind what looked like an abandoned warehouse, another world existed.
A world that had no place on ordinary maps.
There were no signs outside the building.
No company name.
No indication that anyone worked there.
From the outside, it looked forgotten and abandoned.
Inside, however, it was anything but.
A long concrete corridor stretched beneath the building, illuminated by dim overhead lights. Men dressed in black stood at different points along the passage, their expressions serious and their eyes constantly moving.
Nobody entered without permission.
Nobody left without permission.
And everyone knew exactly who the place belonged to.
The place belonged to Vincent Moretti, Adrian's father.
The man whose name was spoken carefully.
The man whose reputation had traveled farther than he had.
The man who didn't need to raise his voice to make people afraid.
His whole existence spoke incredibly things about him.
He was feared by all, just a mention of his name sent chills down people's spine.
Deep inside the underground facility was a large room.
A metal chair stood in the middle.
A man sat in it, his hands restrained.
His name was Marco Bellini. Once, Marco had been one of Vincent's trusted associates. He had worked with the Moretti organization for years.
He had been given access to information most people would have killed to possess.
He had been trusted by Vincent.
And that was exactly what made his betrayal unforgivable.
Two of Vincent's men stood nearby.
Luca, leaned against a table with his arms folded, watching Marco with an expressionless face.
Beside him stood Rafael, another one of Vincent's most trusted men.
Neither man spoke for several seconds.
Marco's breathing was uneven and shaking.
At some point he prayed for his won death before Vincent would show up.
He looked from one man to the other.
"Please, I didn't do anything wrong" he pleaded desperately, his voice trembling as his frightened eyes darted between them.
Luca didn't respond.
Marco swallowed hard, nervously shifting against the chair.
"I can explain," he insisted anxiously, his brows furrowing as he tried to maintain his composure.
Rafael finally looked at him, his expression cold and unimpressed.
"You've been explaining for twenty minutes," he remarked flatly and almost irritated, folding his arms across his chest.
"I wasn't trying to betray him," Marco stammered, shaking his head rapidly in denial.
Luca scoffed, pushing himself away from the table.
"Then what were you trying to do?" he demanded sharply, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Marco looked down, avoiding his gaze.
"I made a mistake, and I'm sorry" he mumbled remorsefully, his shoulders slumping.
"A mistake?" Luca echoed incredulously, raising an eyebrow.
Luca pushed himself away from the table.
"You moved money without authorization," he accused coldly, his voice laced with restrained anger.
Marco shook his head quickly.
"I was going to return it," he defended himself nervously, his eyes widening with desperation.
"You transferred it to another account," Luca shot back, his jaw tightening, trying his best not to hit the scumbag that kept on lying.
"I needed time," Marco replied shakily, rubbing his palms against his trousers.
"You changed the records,for goodness sake" Luca continued accusingly, taking a step closer.
"I panicked," Marco admitted weakly, his voice dropping as guilt crossed his face.
"And then you disappeared," Luca added sternly, his arms folding across his chest again.
Marco's eyes widened.
"I didn't disappear," he protested anxiously, shaking his head.
Rafael laughed coldly.
"You switched off your phone," he pointed out mockingly, his expression hardening.
"I was scared," Marco confessed in a trembling voice, lowering his gaze.
"You were scared because you knew what you'd done," Rafael replied icily, his eyes fixed on him.
Marco looked around the room desperately.
"Please. Just let me speak to Vincent," he begged, his voice cracking as he clasped his hands together.
Luca's expression didn't change.
"You're going to speak to him," he answered calmly, his voice carrying an unsettling certainty.
Marco's face fell.
"But—" he began hesitantly, his lips trembling.
"When he arrives," Luca finished coldly, giving him a warning look.
Silence returned.
The heavy metal door at the end of the room remained closed.
Marco stared at it.
He had heard stories about Vincent Moretti.
Everyone had.
But stories were different from reality.
Marco had spent years working beside him.
He had seen the man smile.
He had seen him remain calm during arguments.
He had watched him negotiate with men twice his age.
He had watched him silence people without flinching or baiting and eye.
He had never imagined he would ever find himself in his current situation.
And he had learned something important.
Vincent wasn't frightening because he was loud.
He never needed to shout to get things in place.
He was frightening because he rarely needed to be.
When Vincent became quiet, people listened.
When Vincent stopped asking questions, people became nervous.
And when Vincent decided someone had betrayed him, there was very little anyone could do.
Marco knew that and yet greed had convinced him he could get away with it.
He had been wrong.
The metal door suddenly opened, distracting him from his thoughts. Every man in the room straightened. The conversation stopped. The room became dead silent.
Vincent Moretti walked inside.
He wore a black suit, his coat hanging neatly over his shoulders, his face was calm, almost too calm for someone that just lost his wife and child's trust. His eyes moved across the room before settling on Marco.
Marco immediately lowered his head.
"Boss," he greeted timidly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Vincent stopped several feet away.
He didn't answer.
Luca approached him.
"He's been waiting for you," he reported respectfully, gesturing toward Marco.
Vincent's gaze remained on Marco.
"How long?" he asked calmly, his expression unreadable.
"Almost an hour," Luca answered promptly, standing straight.
Vincent nodded once.
"Good," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving Marco.
Marco lifted his head trembling.
"Sir..." he murmured nervously, his voice shaking as he struggled to meet Vincent's eyes.
Vincent finally looked directly at him, his stare was firm.
"Marco," he said evenly, his voice dangerously calm scaring Marco more.
Marco's lips trembled.
"Sir, please," he pleaded, his eyes beginning to fill with fear.
Vincent walked slowly toward him.
"Do you know why you're here?" he asked coldly, stopping directly in front of him.
Marco swallowed hard.
"I made a mistake," he answered nervously, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Vincent tilted his head slightly.
"That wasn't my question," he corrected quietly, his eyes narrowing.
Marco hesitated.
"You believe I betrayed you," he said cautiously, his voice unsteady.
"I don't believe it," Vincent replied coldly, his face remaining emotionless.
Marco looked up.
"I know it," Vincent added firmly, his gaze becoming sharper.
Marco's face tightened.
"Sir, I didn't mean for it to happen," he pleaded, shaking his head desperately.
Vincent stepped closer.
"Interesting," he remarked dryly, his expression unreadable.
Marco looked at him desperately.
"I swear I wasn't trying to steal from you," he insisted, pressing a trembling hand against his chest.
"You weren't?" Vincent asked skeptically, one eyebrow lifting.
"No, I wasn't" Marco answered quickly, shaking his head.
"Then tell me what happened," Vincent ordered calmly, his voice carrying quiet authority.
Marco took a shaky breath.
"I was approached by another businessman," he confessed nervously, his fingers twisting together.
Luca's eyes narrowed.
Vincent remained still.
"Name," he commanded curtly, his expression hardening.
Marco hesitated.
Vincent waited.
"His name is—" Marco began nervously, his voice trailing off as fear overtook him.
Marco stopped.
Vincent's expression hardened.
"His name," he demanded again, his voice low and firm.
"Gabriel," Marco finally whispered, his eyes dropping.
"Gabriel what?" Vincent pressed, his gaze piercing through him already loosing his patience but by bit.
"Gabriel Russo," Marco answered quietly, swallowing nervously.
The room became silent that if a pin dropped it could be heard. Luca exchanged a brief look with Rafael. Vincent's face remained unreadable.
"Continue," he ordered calmly, making a small motion with his hand.
"He contacted me several weeks ago," Marco explained nervously, shifting in his seat.
"And?" Vincent prompted coldly, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.
"He said he wanted information about one of our shipments," Marco continued hesitantly, his voice trembling.
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
"Which shipment?" he asked sharply.
Marco looked down.
"The one leaving the southern port," he answered quietly, his shoulders tensing.
Luca stepped forward angrily.
"You knew that information was restricted didn't you," he accused, his voice rising as anger flashed across his face.
"I know!" Marco exclaimed desperately, throwing his hands up.
"Then why did you give it to him?" Luca demanded furiously, glaring at him.
"I didn't give him everything," Marco defended himself quickly, shaking his head.
Vincent raised a hand.
Luca immediately stopped, clenching his jaw as he stepped back.
Vincent looked at Marco.
"What did you give him?" he asked in a low, controlled voice.
Marco's face tightened.
"The schedule," he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely audible.
Vincent's eyes hardened.
"The schedule," he repeated slowly, his expression turning colder.
"Yes," Marco confirmed nervously, nodding.
"And the account details," Vincent added, his tone becoming more accusatory.
Marco's eyes widened.
"I didn't give him the account details," he denied quickly, shaking his head.
Vincent's voice remained calm.
"Then why did three transfers appear under your authorization?" he asked, his gaze fixed firmly on Marco.
Marco's face went pale.
"I..." he stammered, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for an answer.
Vincent waited.
Marco looked around helplessly.
"I didn't authorize those," he finally insisted, his voice trembling.
Rafael stepped forward.
"We have your authorization," he stated firmly, his eyes narrowing.
"You don't understand," Marco pleaded, shaking his head.
"Then explain," Rafael demanded, his arms crossing over his chest.
"I was told the money would only be moved temporarily," Marco explained anxiously, his voice becoming increasingly desperate.
Luca shook his head.
"Who told you?" he demanded, his expression filled with disbelief.
Marco looked at Vincent.
"Gabriel," he answered softly, avoiding everyone's eyes.
Vincent's expression didn't change.
"How much?" he asked coldly.
Marco remained silent.
Vincent's gaze sharpened.
"How much did you give him?" he repeated, his voice carrying a warning.
"Two million," Marco admitted in a barely audible voice, his head lowering in shame.
Silence filled the atmosphere, sending cold chills down Marco's spine.
Luca's jaw tightened and he let out a mocking smile.
Rafael looked away.
Vincent simply stared at Marco.
"Two million," he repeated slowly, his voice dangerously quiet.
Marco nodded nervously.
"I was going to replace it," he pleaded, lifting his eyes toward Vincent.
"When?" Vincent asked flatly, raising an eyebrow.
"Before anyone noticed," Marco answered weakly, his voice trembling.
Vincent let out a quiet breath.
"Yet I noticed," he said coldly, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm sorry," Marco whispered, his face crumpling with guilt.
"You should be," Vincent replied sternly, his expression unmoved.
Marco's eyes filled with tears.
"Sir, please. I have a family," he begged desperately, clasping his hands together.
Vincent looked at him.
"So did my wife," he said quietly, his voice suddenly carrying a trace of pain no one imagined.
The room went completely still. For the first time, something changed in Vincent's expression. It was subtle, pain, anger, a memory. Sophia.
Marco lowered his head.
"I didn't mean—" he began apologetically, his voice fading.
"Don't," Vincent cut him off quietly, his eyes darkening.
Marco immediately stopped.
Vincent looked away for a moment.
His wife had been gone for only a short time.
Adrian had barely begun to understand what losing his mother meant. And Vincent hadn't allowed himself to grieve. There was too much to handle, the organization, the enemies, the business, his son, the move, Everything.
But hearing someone mention family reminded him of the hospital, of Sophia, of Adrian sitting alone in the corridor, of the accusation in his son's eyes, you weren't here...came Adrian's voice
Vincent clenched his jaw, then he turned back to Marco.
"You stole from me Marco," he said coldly, his eyes fixed on Marco.
Marco shook his head.
"I borrowed it," he argued weakly, his voice trembling.
"You lied to me Marco," Vincent accused, his expression hardening.
"I was desperate," Marco pleaded, his shoulders shaking.
"You exposed my organization Marco," Vincent continued, his tone growing colder.
"I didn't mean to," Marco insisted, shaking his head rapidly.
"You put my people at risk Marco," Vincent said sternly, his jaw tightening.
"I swear I didn't know what he planned," Marco pleaded, his voice cracking.
"You didn't know?" Vincent asked skeptically, his eyes narrowing.
"No," Marco answered quickly, shaking his head.
"Then you're either a fool..." Vincent said slowly, his gaze becoming colder.
Vincent paused.
"...or a liar," he finished, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper.
Marco's eyes widened.
"I'm not lying," he insisted desperately, shaking his head.
Vincent turned to Luca.
"Did he confess everything?" he asked calmly. "Not everything," Luca answered cautiously, glancing at Marco. Vincent looked at Rafael. "Did we recover the records?" he asked, his voice firm.
"Most of them," Rafael replied respectfully, nodding. "Most?" Vincent repeated, his eyes narrowing. "There's still one missing file," Rafael explained, his expression serious. Vincent's eyes returned to Marco. "What file?" he demanded, his voice suddenly sharper. Marco shook his head...
"I don't know," he replied nervously, lowering his gaze.
Luca moved closer. "You expect us to believe that?" he demanded suspiciously, glaring at him. "It's the truth," Marco insisted, his voice shaking. Rafael's voice was cold. "You had access," he accused, stepping closer. "I didn't take it," Marco insisted, shaking his head.
"You were the only person who accessed the system that night," Rafael stated firmly, his eyes narrowing. Marco's breathing quickened. "I didn't take it," he repeated desperately, his voice breaking. Vincent stared at him like a lion who was watching his prey. "Think," he ordered quietly, his eyes fixed on Marco. "I don't know!" Marco cried desperately, throwing his hands up.
Vincent's eyes hardened. Marco looked terrified. "I swear," he pleaded, his voice trembling. Vincent turned away. For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then he said quietly facing luca,
"Untie him," he ordered, his voice calm and controlled. Luca looked surprised.
"Boss?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Untie him," Vincent repeated firmly, giving him a warning glance.
Rafael stepped forward and released Marco's restraints. Marco rubbed his wrists and looked at Vincent in confusion. "Sir?" he asked cautiously, his brows furrowing. Vincent turned around.
"You have one chance," he said coldly, his eyes fixed on Marco. Marco's face changed.
"One chance?" he repeated nervously, his voice trembling. "Tell me the truth," Vincent ordered, his tone low and commanding.
"I already did," Marco insisted, shaking his head. "No," Vincent replied quietly, his eyes narrowing. Vincent walked toward him making him shiver. "You told me what you thought would save you," he said coldly, his voice carrying quiet menace.
Marco shook his head. "I swear—" he began desperately. "Don't swear," Vincent cut him off sharply, raising a hand. Marco immediately fell silent. "Just tell the truth," Vincent said firmly, his expression unwavering.
Marco looked down. His shoulders began trembling.
"I..." he stammered, his voice barely audible.
Vincent waited. "I wasn't alone," Marco finally confessed, his voice trembling with fear. Luca immediately stepped forward. "Who?" he demanded sharply, his eyes widening. Marco closed his eyes. "I don't know his real name," he admitted nervously, shaking his head. Vincent's expression remained calm. "Then what do you know?" he asked coldly. "He contacted me through someone else," Marco explained anxiously, his hands trembling. "Who?" Vincent demanded, his voice low. "A man named Victor," Marco answered cautiously. "Victor what?" Luca pressed impatiently, stepping closer. "I don't know," Marco said helplessly, shaking his head.
Vincent looked at Luca.
"Find him," he ordered firmly. Luca nodded. "Yes, Boss," he answered respectfully. Vincent turned back to Marco. "And Gabriel Russo?" he asked, his voice cold. Marco nodded. "He was involved," he confirmed nervously. "Where is he?" Vincent demanded. "I don't know," Marco replied weakly, lowering his head. Vincent's expression hardened. "You met him," he stated firmly. "Yes," Marco admitted, nodding nervously. "Where?" Vincent asked sharply. "At the old restaurant near the harbor," Marco answered quietly. "When?" Vincent demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"Three nights ago," Marco replied, swallowing nervously. "Who else was there?" Vincent asked, his voice low. Marco hesitated. Vincent noticed. "Who?" he demanded, his voice carrying a warning. "A man," Marco answered nervously. "What man?" Vincent pressed, his eyes narrowing. "I don't know," Marco said desperately, shaking his head.
Vincent stared at him. Then he turned toward his men.
"Luca." He called
"Yes?" Luca responded attentively, straightening. "Take him downstairs," Vincent ordered, his voice calm but firm. Marco's eyes widened. "No please," he pleaded, stepping backward. Vincent didn't look at him.
"Please, Boss," Marco begged desperately, clasping his hands together. "Not until he remembers," Vincent said coldly, his expression unmoved. Marco stepped forward. "I've told you everything!" he cried desperately, his voice cracking. Luca grabbed his arm. Marco struggled.
"Please!" he begged, his eyes wide with fear.
Vincent remained silent. "I can fix this!" Marco shouted desperately, looking toward Vincent. Vincent finally looked at him. His expression was cold. "You had years to earn my trust," he said quietly, his voice filled with disappointment. Marco's struggling slowed.
"You destroyed it for money," Vincent continued, his eyes hardening. "I'm sorry boss," Marco whispered, his voice breaking.
"You should have thought about that before you betrayed me," Vincent replied coldly.
"Please!" Marco begged one last time. Luca pulled him toward the door. Marco's voice echoed through the room.
"Boss!" he shouted desperately. The door closed behind him. Silence returned. Vincent stood motionless. Rafael approached carefully.
"What do you want us to do with him?" he asked cautiously, watching Vincent's expression. Vincent looked toward the closed door. "Keep him there," he ordered calmly. "For how long?" Rafael asked, his brows furrowing. "Until he gives us something useful," Vincent replied coldly. Rafael nodded. "And Gabriel?" he asked, his voice respectful. "Find him, you must find him and bring him to me" Vincent ordered firmly.
"Alive?" Rafael asked cautiously. Vincent looked at him. "Of course," he answered evenly. Rafael nodded.
Vincent walked toward the table and picked up a file.....His eyes scanned the papers. "Someone is testing us," he said quietly, his expression darkening.
Luca frowned. "Because of Marco?" he asked, his brows drawn together. "Marco isn't clever enough to organize something this complicated," Vincent replied calmly, shaking his head slightly. "Then who is behind it?" Luca asked cautiously. Vincent closed the file. "That's what I intend to find out," he answered coldly. Rafael folded his arms. "Do you think Gabriel is the one behind everything?" he asked, his voice thoughtful.
"No," Vincent answered immediately, his eyes narrowing. "Then who?" Rafael asked curiously. Vincent looked toward the ceiling. "The person behind Gabriel," he replied quietly. Luca nodded slowly.
"And if we find him?" he asked, his expression serious. Vincent's eyes became colder. "We ask questions," he answered calmly. "And if he doesn't answer?" Luca pressed, watching him carefully.
Vincent looked at him.
"Everyone answers eventually," he said quietly, his expression unreadable. The men remained silent. Vincent glanced at his watch. Then something unexpected happened. His phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket. For a second, he simply stared at the screen. There was one message. From the private number he had given only to his house staff. Adrian is refusing to pack, read the message.
Vincent's expression changed, not much but enough for Luca to notice.
"Everything okay, Boss?" he asked cautiously, studying Vincenzo's face.
Vincent didn't answer immediately. He stared at the message.
His son.. Adrian.
The boy had lost his mother only hours earlier. And now Vincent was forcing him to leave everything familiar behind. Vincent understood why Adrian was angry. But understanding didn't change the circumstances. They had to leave. There were threats he couldn't explain to a ten-year-old. Enemies he couldn't introduce to his son. A world Adrian was too young to understand. Vincent typed a short reply. I'll handle it when I'm back. He put the phone away. Luca looked at him.
"Your son?" he asked softly, his expression becoming sympathetic. Vincent nodded.
"Yes," he answered quietly.
"How is he?" Luca asked gently, his voice losing some of its usual firmness. Vincent was silent. Then he answered quietly.
"Angry," he admitted, his gaze lowering for a moment. Luca lowered his gaze. "He's lost his mother," he said sympathetically. "I know," Vincent replied, his voice unusually quiet. "You should spend some time with him," Luca suggested carefully, watching his reaction. Vincent's eyes hardened slightly. "That's what I'm going to do," he answered firmly. Rafael exchanged a glance with Luca.
Vincent picked up his coat. "Finish this," he ordered, his voice returning to its usual authoritative tone.
Luca nodded.
"Yes, Boss," he answered respectfully.
Vincent walked toward the door. Then he stopped. "One more thing," he said, turning slightly, his expression serious. The men looked at him. "No one touches Marco without my permission," he ordered firmly, his eyes warning them not to misunderstand.
Luca nodded. "Understood," he replied solemnly. "And find Gabriel," Vincenzo added, his voice cold. "Yes," Luca answered firmly. Vincent opened the door. "And find out who Victor is," he commanded, his gaze sweeping over them. "Of course," Luca replied immediately, nodding. Vincent stepped into the corridor. The door closed behind him. His footsteps slowly disappeared. Inside the room, Luca and Rafael remained silent.
Luca looked at the closed door. "He's different tonight," he observed quietly, his brows furrowing. Rafael nodded.. "His wife died," he replied solemnly. Luca sighed. "And his son hates him," he murmured, his expression troubled. Rafael looked at him sharply. "Don't say that where he can hear you," he warned quietly, his eyes narrowing. Luca gave a small nod. "You're right," he agreed softly. They returned their attention to the work before them.
But neither man noticed the figure standing farther down the corridor. A man who had been listening. A man who shouldn't have been there. He quietly pulled out his phone. Typed a message. And sent it.
Vincent knows.
Then he slipped the phone back into his pocket and disappeared into the shadows.
Above them, the city continued as normal.
People went to restaurants.
Cars moved through traffic.
Families sat around dinner tables.
Children laughed.
Nobody knew that beneath their feet, a war was slowly beginning.
And at the center of it all stood Vincenzo Moretti.
A father who had just lost his wife.
A mafia lord who had just discovered a traitor.
And a man who had no idea that the choices he made tonight would eventually shape the future of his son. Adrian Moretti, The boy who wished he had never been born into this family. The boy who believed he wanted nothing to do with his father's world. The boy who didn't yet know that the Moretti name would follow him wherever he went.
Even into his new school.
Even into his new life.
And eventually...
Even into love.