Chapter 2 - The Bloodline Claim
Within twenty minutes, the entire Moretti estate was placed under total lockdown.
Heavy iron gates slammed shut at the perimeter; fifty armed guards in dark suits patrolled the perimeter with high-powered rifles. Outside, the rain began to fall in heavy sheets, matching the lethal darkness settling over the mansion.
In the grand library on the second floor, a roaring fire cast long shadows across the leather sofas and mahogany bookshelves.
Sophia sat on the velvet sofa, holding a steaming mug of sweet chamomile tea that Alessandro had personally instructed his butler to bring her. Lily was asleep on her mother’s lap, exhausted by the trauma, wrapped tightly in a soft cashmere blanket. Leo sat beside them, refusing to leave Lily’s side, holding the toddler's small hand while watching his father move around the room.
Alessandro stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, holding an unlit cigar, listening to Matteo’s report.
"Marco isn't in his quarters," Matteo whispered quietly near the desk. "His car is still in the underground garage, but security feeds show he bypassed the main foyer five minutes after the child spoke up. He’s hiding somewhere inside the house."
"He won't make it off the property," Alessandro said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He turned away from the window and walked toward the sofa.
Sophia looked up as the towering Mafia boss approached. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She was just a housemaid—a twenty-four-year-old woman who worked sixty hours a week wiping tables, laundry bags, and scrubbing marble floors to buy milk and pay for her daughter’s asthma medication.
"Mr. Moretti," Sophia began, her voice quivering slightly. "The police... should we talk to the police?"
Alessandro stopped in front of her. He looked down at her—at her soft, delicate features, her modest grey maid’s uniform stained with tea and flour, and the fierce, motherly grace that radiated from her despite her terror.
"The police do not govern this house, Sophia," Alessandro said quietly. He leaned down, placing his hands on the armrests of the sofa, bringing his dark eyes level with hers. "I do."
Sophia held her breath. Up close, Alessandro was breathtaking—a man forged in power, carrying a faint scent of cedarwood, rainfall, and expensive tobacco.
"You saved my son," Alessandro murmured, his eyes scanning every inch of her face. "If Lily hadn't spoken up, Leo would be dead. I would be holding a piece of my child right now."
"She... she was just trying to do the right thing," Sophia whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I was so scared they would hurt her for interrupting you."
"No one will ever hurt her," Alessandro promised, his voice dropping into a deep, solemn vow. "And no one will ever look down on you again."
He stood up, walking over to his mahogany desk. He picked up his internal intercom phone and pressed the button that broadcasted his voice to every speaker across the three-hundred-acre estate, every guard radio, and every monitor in the city quarters.
"Attention," Alessandro’s voice echoed through the walls of the mansion, cold, absolute, and commanding. "Effective immediately, Sophia Reyes and her daughter, Lily, are under the personal protection of the Moretti throne. Any action taken against them—a look, a word, a threat—will be treated as an act of high treason against me personally."
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Sophia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Furthermore," Alessandro continued, his voice ringing through the estate like a royal decree. "Sophia Reyes is no longer an employee of this household. She is my personal guest, and the future matriarch of this family. Prepare the East Wing master suite for her immediately."
