Chapter 9: Shattered hearts

The rain hadn’t stopped. It lashed the estate as if trying to wash away generations of blood and secrets. In the grand hall, Luca stood facing Donato beneath the flickering chandelier, both brothers cloaked in black, the air thick with unspoken memories and grim determination. Outside, Donato’s convoy waited, two sleek black SUVs and eight men in tailored suits armed to the teeth. Their silhouettes were carved into the morning fog, a ghostly reminder of the world they lived in. "You don’t have to go alone," Luca said, voice low and hoarse. Donato’s jaw ticked. "I do. I have the map. I know the terrain. You need to stay here. Protect what’s left. Protect her." Luca’s gaze flicked toward Alessia, who stood near the staircase wrapped in a shawl too thin for the cold. Her eyes didn’t leave Donato, not with suspicion, but with fear. A fear that clawed at her chest. Fear of what he might find. Fear of what it might cost. Donato looked at her, his hardened expression softening. "Take care of him. He needs you more than he’ll admit." Alessia swallowed hard and gave a small nod. Something about this goodbye felt final. Like a door was closing on something none of them could name. The brothers embraced briefly, tightly, wordlessly. Then Donato turned, walked out into the rain, and climbed into the SUV. The convoy rolled down the driveway and vanished into the mist. Silence fell again. Only the rain answered. That evening The gray of the estate deepened as dusk fell. Alessia stood beside Luca on the balcony outside their chambers, the cold air threading through her shawl, his warmth grounding her in place. "You’re quiet," Luca murmured. "So are you." "I don’t like being left behind," he said. She tilted her head. "You stayed for me." "I always will." A knock sounded. Daisy stood at the doorway, hesitant. "There’s... someone asking to see you, sir." Luca frowned. "Who?" Before Daisy could answer, the figure stepped past her. Bianca. Tall. Flawless. Wrapped in a rain-slick red coat that clung to every curve. Soaked golden hair framed her face. She looked like a memory that refused to die. Alessia’s breath caught. Luca’s body tensed beside her. "Bianca." Bianca’s eyes flicked briefly to Alessia before resting on Luca. Her hand moved to her stomach. "I’m pregnant, Luca. And it’s yours." The words crashed into Alessia’s chest like a train. Daisy gasped. Alessia stepped back, the world swaying. Luca’s voice dropped. "Come with me. Now." He led Bianca away without looking back. Alessia stood frozen, chest heaving, eyes wide, lips trembling. Daisy gently touched her arm, but Alessia shook her head and walked toward their bedroom, her legs hollow, her soul heavier than before. Twenty minutes later Luca returned—alone. He found Alessia sitting by the window, her knees drawn to her chest. Daisy sat beside her, brushing fingers through her hair like a sister would. "She said it happened months before the wedding," Luca said. "One night. A mistake." Alessia didn’t turn. "I sent her away. Told her I’d talk to her later, but I made it clear where I stand." Still, Alessia didn’t look at him. "Would you have told me... if she hadn’t shown up?" she asked quietly. Luca’s throat tightened. "I don’t know she was pregnant." She turned now, and her eyes weren’t angry. They were wounded. "That’s what hurts the most." He stepped forward, sat close to her, and took her hands. "You know I had...numerous girlfriends before you. I couldn’t shove my damn d*ck into my pants," he confessed with bitter honesty. "I chased anything in a skirt." Alessia looked at him, stunned by the brutal truth. "But then... I married you. And everything changed." He leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her neck. "Since you came into my life, you quenched that thirst. That wild, empty taste. Alessia, I love you. I will never cheat on you." She bit her lip, but tears escaped. "But Bianca’s pregnant with your child," she whispered, broken. Luca gently cupped her cheeks and wiped the tears with both hands. "I don’t trust those girls. They can be manipulative. Let’s wait until the baby is born and do a DNA test. Together." She blinked. "And to assure you, no secret. I want us both to go and talk to her. Face to face. Anything for you. My lady. My woman." Something melted in her. His words were so flawed, so raw, so real, wrapped around her aching heart like balm. She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. For the first time, she made the move. Luca held her tightly by the waist, his embrace both passionate and protective. The hallway outside was silent. The few maids walking past respectfully bowed their heads, not daring to intrude on the intimacy of their moment. Later that night, the rain had finally stopped. The estate was too quiet. Alessia lay in bed, wide awake. Luca slept beside her, arm slung around her waist. His chest rose and fell, peaceful. But her mind was in chaos. Her father. Donato’s warning. The book. She slipped from beneath Luca’s arm, careful not to wake him. She dressed in dark clothes, threw on a long coat, and padded silently into the hallway. Daisy waited near the staircase. "You’re not going alone," she said. Alessia blinked. "How did you....?" "I know you. And I saw the way you looked at the fire this morning. Like it held answers." They left in a nondescript car. Daisy drove. The road to Alessia’s childhood home was long and winding through dense woods and mist-coated gravel paths. The house stood as it always had, lonely, weatherworn, and full of ghosts. Inside, it smelled of old perfume and dust. Alessia led Daisy upstairs to the nursery. "My late father had us pack out of this house before his death, and the reasons for that are still unknown ". She said to Daisy. Time had stopped here. The dolls, the faded wallpaper, and the worn carpets were all untouched. Alessia walked to the dollhouse. Kneeling, she ran her fingers across the miniature shingles, then slid back the false panel beneath the fireplace. But there was no book. Just silk fabric... and something folded. She unwrapped it, and three torn pages were blank. Her heart plummeted. "No... this can’t be it." Daisy leaned over. "Wait. There’s something written in the corner." Faint, barely visible: Hold me close to a light. Alessia pulled a torchlight from the emergency drawer, flicked it on, and held it beneath the pages. Words surfaced, written in a strange, glowing ink: The book must not be found before the soul is chosen. Three pieces seek the whole. Add me to the main book. Alessia’s brows furrowed. "Waste of time," she muttered. Then a creak behind them, they turned and saw a figure standing in the hallway. Tall. Still. Watching. Alessia’s breath hitched. It’s not Luca, not Donato, not a guard. The man didn’t move. Just stared. Then, like a wisp of shadow, he disappeared down the staircase. Alessia shoved the glowing pages into her coat and grabbed Daisy’s wrist. "We have to go. Now." Back at the Morano Estate, Luca stirred his arm and found empty sheets. He sat up on Alessia’s nightstand. Her wedding ring was gone, and in its place was a coin. His heart stuttered. Not a betrayal but a warning. He shot out of bed, grabbed his gun, and raced for the door in search of Alessia... Immediately he opened the door, he saw Alessia and Daisy coming down from the car. Luca’s brows drew into a sharp line the moment he saw Alessia stepping out of the black sedan, her figure delicate beneath the grey dawn mist. Her arms were wrapped around herself for warmth, her hair tousled by the wind. No guards. No warning. Just her. "What the hell?" he growled under his breath. The air around him snapped with tension as he stormed toward the front steps, jaw clenched. His sharp eyes scanned the guards flanking the entrance. "Where were you when she left?" he barked. The men stiffened instantly. One shifted uncomfortably, and another lowered his gaze. "We didn’t know she left, Boss," one mumbled. "No one saw her exit." Luca’s expression darkened. "She slipped out while I was sleeping beside her..." he muttered to himself, the weight of the realization sinking in like a stone. "If I didn’t feel her leave, how the hell would they?" Before any of the guards could offer a defense, Daisy rushed forward, panic written all over her face. "I’m sorry, sir. It was my fault. I—" He raised a hand swiftly, a silent command to stop. "Go." Daisy obeyed, her head bowed in shame as she disappeared inside. With a deep breath, Luca moved toward Alessia, slipping the small pistol from his waistband and tucking it into his back pocket as he reached her. She looked pale, her eyes a little distant. "Alessia..." he whispered, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame. "You’re freezing. Are you okay?" She nodded weakly, but her lips quivered. "Where did you go?" he asked gently, voice low and concerned. "I—I just needed some air." "Let’s get you inside," he said, not pressing further. Not yet. Without another word, he swept her off her feet, bridal style, her soft gasp caught between surprise and comfort. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. Inside the bedroom, he lay her gently on the bed. She shivered slightly. He quickly moved to the wardrobe, pulled out a soft cardigan, and helped her change out of her damp clothes, eyes never straying where they shouldn’t. "You’re pale," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, even in her fragile state. He returned with a cup of hot tea, kneeling beside the bed. "Drink this." She sipped, hands cradling the warmth. Luca adjusted the blanket around her legs, tucking it securely. Then he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her foot. "Thank you, sweetheart," she whispered. The words hit him like a slow-burning flame. His heart softened. Alessia had called him sweetheart. She had never said that before. Something warm flickered inside him, but he forced himself not to drift too far into the illusion. Not yet. "Where were you this morning?" he asked, eyes studying her. "You and Daisy. That wasn’t just a drive." Her gaze faltered. "We just drove around. Wanted some fresh air." He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "Alessia," he said softly. "When did you start lying to your husband?" The words landed heavily between them. She blinked, lips parting—but said nothing. He stood, walked over to where her earlier clothes had been carelessly draped over the chair. With careful fingers, he picked them up, about to fold them properly, when something slipped out of the jacket pocket and fluttered to the floor. A paper. His eyes narrowed. He bent to pick it up. Alessia gasped. Her entire body went still. Her hands clutched the blanket tighter. Her eyes were wide—too wide. Luca turned slowly, paper in hand. Her expression was pale with panic. Her lips parted, but no words came out. "What is this?" he asked. The paper was torn, o, —part of a page. There were symbols and ancient markings, and a map sketched faintly across it. It looked eerily similar to what his father once showed them before his death. He looked at Alessia. She looked terrified....