INICIAR SESIÓNAlessia woke with blood in her mouth.
Cold metal vibrated beneath her cheek, and an engine growled somewhere beyond the darkness. Her hands were bound behind her. A black hood covered her head. She was in a moving van. Two men occupied the front. Another sat near her feet, his boots scraping the floor whenever the vehicle turned. “You gave her too much,” the driver said. “She was fighting.” “You were told not to damage her.” “She’s breathing.” Alessia tested the plastic binding around her wrists. It was tight but thin. Given a sharp surface and enough time, she could cut through it. She moved one leg. “Stay still,” the man beside her ordered. She went limp again and began counting the turns. Right. Sixteen seconds. Another right. A steep decline. The air changed as the van entered an enclosed space. The engine’s echo suggested concrete walls. A garage. When the doors opened, two men dragged her outside. Her bare feet struck cold concrete. She stumbled deliberately, pressing her shoulder against one captor. A pistol rested beneath his jacket. They led her down twelve stairs and through two doors. The air became damp. Water dripped nearby. A basement. Alessia was tied to a wooden chair before the hood was removed. Harsh light stabbed her eyes. Three masked men surrounded her. The shortest held a camera. “If you’re hoping to frighten my father,” Alessia said, “you should ask whether he accepts returns.” The cameraman laughed. The largest man struck her. Pain exploded along her cheekbone. Alessia slowly faced him again. “Did that make you feel important?” He lifted his hand. “Enough,” someone said. A fourth man entered without a mask. Matteo closed the door behind him. For several seconds, Alessia’s mind refused to understand. He had followed the kidnappers. He had come to rescue her. Then the cameraman handed him the equipment. Matteo accepted it. Something inside her went cold. “You,” she whispered. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.” “It rarely is when you kidnap someone.” “I tried to get you out before they arrived.” “That’s why you wanted me to run.” “I was protecting you.” “Untie me.” “I can’t.” “Then shoot me, because whatever excuse you’re preparing won’t make this better.” Matteo dismissed the masked men and crouched before her. Alessia pulled away when he reached for her bruised cheek. “Don’t touch me.” “Moretti was never supposed to be upstairs.” “Is that what bothers you? Your men almost killed him?” “They weren’t meant to kill anyone. They were creating enough confusion to take you.” “They fired through my bedroom window.” “I didn’t choose the crew.” “No. You merely opened the gates.” His silence confirmed it. “How long have you been betraying my family?” “I haven’t betrayed you.” “You handed me to strangers.” “To keep you away from Moretti.” “For whom?” Matteo stood. Fear flickered in his eyes. He wasn’t controlling this operation. “The Russians,” Alessia said. “You sold us to Viktor Sokolov.” “Your father sold you first.” “My father being a bastard doesn’t make you innocent.” “You don’t understand what’s happening. The Romanos are finished. Luca borrowed from Sokolov after the raids. When he couldn’t repay him, he offered access to the docks.” “Then Dante intervened.” “The marriage would give Moretti control of everything Sokolov wants.” “So I’m leverage.” “You’re the only leverage that matters.” “To Dante? He barely knows me.” Matteo’s expression hardened. “He doesn’t care about you.” “He covered me with his body while your men fired at us.” “He wants your name and territory.” “What do you want?” “I want you alive.” “Untie me.” “I can’t.” “Then you want me obedient.” Footsteps sounded outside. Matteo moved towards the door. “They’ll bring the camera back. You’ll read a statement telling Moretti to abandon the marriage and withdraw his soldiers.” “And if I refuse?” His eyes moved towards her bruised face. “They’ll persuade you.” After he left, the masked men returned with a page. Alessia looked into the camera. “My name is Alessia Romano. I’m being held by three incompetent cowards and one traitorous rat.” A fist struck her stomach. When she could breathe again, she raised her head and smiled. “Would you like me to start over?”Luca Romano pleaded guilty the following morning. His confession dismantled the final legal protections surrounding the Order and cleared the names of several people Jonathan Hale had framed. He was sentenced to life imprisonment. Doctors estimated he had less than six months to serve. Alessia did not visit again. Forgiveness, she realised, was not always reconciliation. Sometimes it was simply refusing to let another person’s sins occupy the rest of your life. Three months passed. Alessia’s pregnancy stabilised, and the twins continued growing. One was slightly larger and constantly moving. The other remained quieter but healthy. Dante attended every appointment. He questioned every measurement, read every report and once demanded an explanation for why one baby appeared to have fewer fingers on the ultrasound. “The hand is turned,” the technician told him. “Turn it back.” “The baby controls that.” Dante looked offended by the concept. Alessia laughed until tears appear
The Order of Saint Michael collapsed within two weeks. Elena Corsini’s ship was intercepted before it reached international waters. Judge Vale’s records exposed decades of corrupted cases, while Tomas Rizzo surrendered the locations of several hidden training facilities. Orlando Vitale refused to cooperate. He did not need to. Adriano knew enough to connect them all. Sixteen missing boys were recovered from the monastery. Nine more were found inside properties owned by Corsini’s charities. None returned immediately to the families they had lost; specialists arranged trauma care and protected accommodation. The children had been rescued. That did not mean they were healed. Adriano understood the difference better than anyone. He pleaded guilty to multiple killings and provided full testimony against the Order. His sentencing was delayed while investigators verified his evidence and psychologists assessed the effects of lifelong coercive control. Isabella visited him every day
Dante carried Alessia into the emergency department with blood covering both of them. “Ten weeks pregnant,” he told the medical team. “Twins. Previous subchorionic bleeding.” A nurse attempted to guide him away from the bed. He refused to release Alessia’s hand. “Sir, we need room.” “I’m staying.” “Dante,” Alessia whispered. He looked at her. She had never seen him so afraid. “Let them help.” His fingers slowly loosened. Doctors moved around her while questions came from every direction. Pain tightened across her abdomen, followed by another warm rush of blood. “Both babies had heartbeats yesterday,” she said. “We’re going to check them now,” the doctor replied. Dante stood near the wall, blood staining his white shirt. Enzo and Isabella waited beyond the glass doors. Gabriel had remained at the estate to help investigators secure the grounds. The ultrasound machine was brought beside the bed. The doctor moved the instrument across Alessia’s stomach. The screen remain
Dante drove towards the estate while smoke rose above the trees. Alessia sat beside him, one hand braced against the dashboard. “Slow down.” “The nursery is burning.” “The babies aren’t inside it.” “You sleep in the adjoining room.” “And I’m here.” Dante gripped the steering wheel. “Vitale is destroying our home.” “Then don’t let him make you careless.” Enzo’s vehicle followed while fire crews approached from the opposite direction. The estate gates had been forced open. Two guards lay injured beside the security station. Moretti staff gathered beyond the walls while flames consumed the eastern wing. Dante stopped before the car had fully settled. Alessia caught his arm. “You are not running into a burning house.” “Vitale is inside.” “So are firefighters.” “He threatened our children.” “He wants you angry.” “I am angry.” “Exactly.” A gunshot came from the upper floor. Dante looked towards the nursery window. Orlando Vitale appeared behind the flames. Then Isabe
The Moretti mausoleum had stood for nearly a century. Dante remembered attending his first funeral there at six years old. He had spent the service counting the marble angels while his father whispered that Moretti men never cried. Now he knew an assassin had been training beneath his feet. Adriano approached the central tomb at sunset. A recording device had been sewn beneath his shirt, and a tracking capsule rested inside his boot. Sofia’s necklace hung around his neck. Dante watched from the cemetery’s security building. Alessia sat beside him, against both his preference and the doctor’s advice. “You were supposed to remain inside the house.” “I’m two hundred metres from it.” “You were supposed to remain in bed.” “I brought a chair.” “That is not the same thing.” She took his hand and placed it over her stomach. “You’re frightening them.” “They’re the size of seeds.” “Very perceptive seeds.” A faint movement appeared beneath his palm. Dante froze. Alessia smiled.
The four remaining families controlled money, weapons, information and death. Evelyn arranged their photographs across the Moretti war-room table. “Orlando Vitale,” she said, indicating an elderly man with white hair. “Banker and likely the shadowed figure from the broadcast.” Beside him was Elena Corsini, owner of an international shipping company. The third was Judge Marcus Vale, whose father’s name appeared in Sofia’s ledger. The final photograph showed Tomas Rizzo, director of a private intelligence firm. “The four pillars of the Order,” Adriano said. “Vitale finances it. Corsini moves people and weapons. Vale protects them through the courts. Rizzo finds their enemies.” “And you killed those enemies,” Enzo said. “Yes.” Adriano offered neither justification nor apology. Dante stood beside Alessia’s chair. She had obeyed the doctor’s order to rest, although she insisted that sitting in the war room qualified. “Locations?” Dante asked. “Vale is inside the city,” Evelyn rep







