Chapter 3 – “The Daughter of the Enemy”
The first rule Lorenzo Moretti had ever learned was simple:
Never let your heart become a weakness.
His father had repeated those words so many tim
es that they had become part of his bones.
A man could survive losing money.
A man could survive losing power.
A man could even survive losing his reputation.
But a man who allowed himself to love?
That man could be destroyed.
For twenty years, Lorenzo had lived by that rule.
He built walls around himself higher than any building he owned.
He trusted numbers.
Contracts.
Information.
Fear.
Fear never betrayed you.
Fear never left you.
Fear never looked into your eyes and made you question everything you believed.
Until Camila Williams.
The woman who had walked into his life carrying a tray of chocolate truffles and somehow managed to do what enemies, politicians, and criminals had failed to do.
She made him forget he was supposed to be a monster.
And now he knew the truth.
She was the daughter of Anthony Williams.
The man responsible for the darkest chapter of the Moretti family.
The man who had taken everything from him.
His father.
His childhood.
His innocence.
And now that man's daughter was the only person Lorenzo wanted to protect.
Life had a cruel sense of humor.
The Moretti mansion sat above the city like a fortress.
Glass walls.
Dark stone.
Security systems that could detect movement from blocks away.
A place designed for one purpose:
To keep enemies out.
Lorenzo stood in his office staring at the documents Matteo had placed on his desk.
Camila Williams.
Age: twenty-eight.
Occupation: Pastry chef.
Mother: Elena Williams.
Father: Anthony Williams.
Deceased.
Except…
The information about Anthony was wrong.
Lorenzo knew that.
Because men like Anthony Williams did not simply disappear.
They buried their secrets.
They created new names.
They left behind unfinished wars.
Matteo stood near the window.
“You should tell her.”
Lorenzo did not look up.
“No.”
“She has the right to know.”
“She has the right to live.”
Matteo was silent.
Because that was the difference between Lorenzo and the man everyone thought he was.
A cruel man would have used Camila.
A ruthless man would have seen her as leverage.
But Lorenzo saw a woman who had spent her entire life believing she was ordinary.
And he refused to be the person who destroyed that.
“Boss.”
Lorenzo finally looked at him.
“She deserves a choice.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Matteo frowned.
“You’re protecting her.”
“Yes.”
“From the truth?”
“From people who will use the truth.”
Matteo sighed.
“Anthony Williams had enemies.”
“So do I.”
“Exactly.”
The words hung between them.
Because Matteo was right.
Lorenzo had enemies everywhere.
Business rivals.
Old families.
People waiting for him to make one mistake.
And now they knew about Camila.
Which meant she was no longer invisible.
She was a target.
Camila spent the next day angry.
Mostly at Lorenzo.
Which was easier than admitting she was worried.
He had sent two guards to follow her.
Two.
Not discreet guards either.
Huge men in black suits who stood outside Sterling & Co. pretending they were not obviously security.
Everyone noticed.
Especially her coworkers.
“Are you secretly royalty?” one server joked.
Camila did not laugh.
Because she did not know anymore.
Her normal life had disappeared in forty-eight hours.
One moment she was worrying about rent and whether her oven needed replacing.
The next, she had armed men protecting her.
And somehow, the most frustrating part was that Lorenzo had not called.
Not once.
After telling her someone wanted her dead…
He disappeared.
That made her furious.
At least anger was better than fear.
She was decorating a wedding cake when she finally snapped.
The piping bag squeezed too hard.
A flower of buttercream exploded across the table.
“Great,” she muttered.
“Having a bad day?”
She looked up.
Aiden.
Again.
She sighed.
“Do you just appear whenever I’m struggling?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Maybe.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
Aiden walked closer.
“You heard from him?”
She knew exactly who he meant.
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Aiden studied her.
“That bothers you.”
“No.”
“Camila.”
She put the piping bag down.
“Why does everyone think they know what I’m feeling?”
“Because you’re terrible at hiding it.”
She looked away.
That was annoyingly true.
Aiden softened.
“Did he hurt you?”
The question immediately made her defensive.
“No.”
“Then why do you look like someone did?”
Because he had not hurt her.
That was the problem.
If Lorenzo had been cruel, everything would have been easy.
If he had been arrogant, selfish, or careless, she could have walked away.
But he had been gentle.
He had protected her.
He had looked at her like she mattered.
And Camila hated that part of herself that wanted to believe him.
“I don’t know what he wants.”
Aiden was quiet.
“Maybe he wants you.”
She looked at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
Because men like Lorenzo Moretti did not want women like her.
But saying that out loud felt wrong.
Because Lorenzo had looked at her differently.
Aiden noticed her silence.
And that was answer enough.
That evening, Lorenzo finally came to see her.
Not at a restaurant.
Not somewhere dramatic.
Her apartment.
Camila opened the door and immediately became angry.
“What are you doing here?”
Lorenzo looked tired.
Actually tired.
Not the polished version of himself.
His suit jacket was gone.
His sleeves were rolled up.
His eyes carried exhaustion.
“I needed to talk to you.”
She crossed her arms.
“You have a strange way of showing concern.”
“I know.”
“You scared me.”
His expression changed.
“I know.”
“You sent guards without explaining anything.”
“I know.”
“And then you disappeared.”
A pause.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology surprised her.
Because she expected excuses.
Not that.
“You’re apologizing?”
“Yes.”
“Lorenzo Moretti apologizes?”
“Rarely.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
But she stopped herself.
“Come in.”
He entered.
Her apartment looked even smaller with him inside.
A man who belonged in marble buildings and private rooms.
Not beside her old bookshelf.
Not near her tiny kitchen.
Not sitting on her worn couch.
But somehow…
He fit.
That realization irritated her.
“So,” she said.
“So?”
“Explain.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“Someone is after you.”
“I know.”
“No, Camila.”
His voice became serious.
“You don’t.”
Something in his tone made her sit.
“What does that mean?”
He hesitated.
For the first time since she met him, Lorenzo Moretti looked uncertain.
And that scared her.
“What happened?”
He looked down.
Then back at her.
“Your father’s name was Anthony Williams.”
Camila froze.
The room became silent.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“My father died when I was little.”
“That’s what you were told.”
Her heart started beating faster.
“What are you saying?”
Lorenzo sat forward.
“Your father was involved in my world.”
She stared.
“What world?”
He did not answer.
She already knew.
The answer was in his face.
The rumors.
The fear.
The reputation.
“No.”
The word escaped her.
“No.”
“Camila—”
“My father was a criminal?”
Lorenzo stayed silent.
And silence was an answer.
She stood.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I wish I was wrong.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Why would I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
That stopped her.
Because she expected him to defend himself.
Instead, he said:
“You shouldn’t trust me easily.”
The honesty disarmed her.
“I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Lorenzo’s expression softened.
“Camila…”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“All my life, I thought I knew my story.”
She laughed bitterly.
“My father was a man who left. My mother struggled. I worked hard. I built something.”
“You did.”
“But now you’re telling me everything was a lie?”
“No.”
His voice was firm.
“Everything you built was real.”
She looked at him.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because Anthony Williams may have given you your blood.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“But he did not make you who you are.”
The words broke something inside her.
Because she had spent her whole life afraid she inherited something bad.
And Lorenzo was telling her she was still herself.
“I don’t understand you,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“You’re supposed to hate me.”
His eyes darkened.
“I tried.”
That answer shocked her.
“You tried?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
He looked away.
“And I failed.”
The air changed.
Camila’s heart skipped.
“Why?”
Lorenzo looked at her.
Because for once, he stopped hiding.
“Because you are nothing like him.”
Silence.
Then:
“Who was he?”
Lorenzo’s expression hardened.
“A man who destroyed lives.”
“And you?”
The question hit him.
“What?”
“What are you?”
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then:
“A man trying not to become him.”
That was the moment Camila understood.
The monster everyone feared…
Was terrified of becoming worse.
Before she could answer, Lorenzo’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“Who is it?”
“Matteo.”
He answered.
“What?”
A pause.
Then Lorenzo’s face turned cold.
“Repeat that.”
Camila watched him carefully.
“What happened?”
Lorenzo ended the call.
“They found the person who ordered the attack.”
“Who?”
He looked at her.
And she immediately knew.
It was bad.
“Your father’s old enemy.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Who?”
Lorenzo’s voice lowered.
“Someone who believes Anthony Williams left behind something valuable.”
“What?”
Lorenzo stepped toward her.
“You.”
Camila went still.
“I’m not a thing.”
His expression softened.
“I know.”
“Then why does everyone keep treating me like one?”
Because they were fighting over her blood.
Her name.
Her connection.
Her past.
But Lorenzo answered differently.
“Because they don’t see what I see.”
“And what do you see?”
A pause.
Then:
“Someone worth protecting.”
Her eyes burned unexpectedly.
Nobody had ever said that to her.
Not like that.
Then the lights in her apartment went out.
Every instinct in Lorenzo changed.
“Camila.”
His voice was sharp.
“Get behind me.”
A sound came from the hallway.
A slow knock.
Three times.
Lorenzo reached inside his jacket.
Camila froze.
Because she saw the weapon.
The truth.
The man in front of her was dangerous.
The world around him was dangerous.
But then he moved.
Not toward the door.
Toward her.
Always toward her.
The door handle slowly turned.
And a voice came from the other side.
“Anthony Williams’ daughter…”
A cold smile entered the stranger’s voice.
“I finally found you.”
Lorenzo positioned himself between them.
His eyes became ice.
May you like
And Camila realized something:
The war had already begun.
