Everyone felt overwhelmed, not only by the number of armed people around them but also by the invisible presence of an enemy in the sky.The one most eager to leave Portugal was Alejandro. From his secure phone, he had already ordered a large sum of money to be transferred to the generals and all the immediate personnel handling his security and the private jet.Katherine, his nurse, helped him board the plane along with Isabela. Once he was placed in a seat reclined to resemble a stretcher, Isabela took care of the children, who couldn’t understand what was happening or why they were on another plane.Security was at its highest level, yet Alejandro's instincts told him they were still not safe.He and his family needed to get out of there as quickly as possible to reach Costa Esmeralda.Isabela looked at the children, who were beginning to grow restless.Lucía stared at the plane’s lights through the window, while Mat
The control tower at Santa María Airport had given landing clearance to the private jet with apparent cold calm. But inside, adrenaline made their hearts race like lightning striking the ground. — "What do we do, Commander?" —asked the air traffic controller. — "The usual. Nothing happened here." — "And if they ask questions?" —the operator insisted. — "About what?" —The Commander scanned them with his eyes—. "You don’t know anything… No one here has seen or heard anything!" —His energetic tone left no room for doubt. Nodding, they all returned to their posts, focused on the aircraft’s landing. The roar of the engines of Damián Barragán’s private jet tore through the night like thunder heralding a storm. The landing lights illuminated the Santa María airport runway, sliding over the deserted asphalt as if searching for something… or someone.
Isabela gripped her phone tightly as the sound of the military jet's engine roared in the background. She knew that this call could be her last chance to ensure the safety of her family.Her heart raced, but her voice remained steady and authoritative.— Isabela? —Melina's voice on the line sounded incredulous, but she didn't hesitate to recognize her.— Melina, I need your help. Immediately.There was a brief silence on the line, only interrupted by a sigh from the Greek Minister of Foreign Affairs.— Tell me what you need, and I'll make it happen.Isabela closed her eyes for a moment, weighing her words. She couldn’t afford any mistakes or beating around the bush.— I have a military private jet leaving Portugal with an uncertain destination. I can’t make it to Costa Esmeralda; Damián Barragán is on our tail. I need to land in Greece, without being detected by commercial radars or international agencies.
Isabela leaned back in the leather seat of the jet, crossing her legs with the calm of someone who knew everything was under control. She looked out the window at the vastness of the ocean, and a barely noticeable smile formed on her lips. She had played her cards well. They weren’t out of danger yet, but she was close to achieving it.— Estimated time of arrival? — she asked, without taking her eyes off the horizon.— Three hours, boss, — Miguel replied.Isabela nodded and took a sip of sparkling water from her glass. What she had asked Melina for was to ensure her family’s safety—something not easy to achieve, but Melina could make it happen by pulling the right strings. Her mind stayed cool, going over in detail all the things that made the minister a perfect target for blackmail and manipulation, hoping she wouldn’t have to use any of it.She had made a mistake by ordering Vicente Barragán's assassi
While Isabela was on her way back to the safe house Melina had arranged for her, her husband Alejandro woke up with a start.Cold sweat drenched his forehead. The sedative Katherine had given him was beginning to wear off.His body felt heavy, as if trapped in a sea of fog. He tried to move his fingers, but a sharp pain in his right shoulder reminded him that his body was far from being at its best.Katherine sat by his side, her face attentive but serious. She observed him with a professional calm, but Alejandro couldn’t help but notice the tension in her eyes.—Mr. Moretti, how are you feeling? —Katherine said in a low voice.Alejandro tried to focus, but his mind was still caught in a whirlwind of confusing thoughts and senseless images drifting through his head.—Where is Isabela? —he asked immediately, his voice hoarse, commanding answers with evident authority.He searched the room for the face of his wife, who had alwa
Before Isabela arrived at the house where Alejandro was anxiously waiting for her, news of her presence in Greece had already reached the ears of a high-ranking official in the Greek government.Melina, who was still in the hotel’s private lounge, received an unexpected visit.— What are you doing here, Christopoulos? —said Melina, her eyes wide with surprise.— You’re not the only one with ears everywhere, Melina…— What’s that supposed to mean?With an ironic smile, he replied.— I know she’s here… I saw her leave and I know she was with you. — What is she doing here and what did she ask you for? —his once “friendly” gaze turned serious and demanding.— You claimed to have ears everywhere, figure it out yourself… But I recommend you stay away from her.Standing from her seat, Melina walked away without listening to anything else Christopoulos had to say.— Melina…Stopping, the minister
The silence between them became denser than the air in that room. Alejandro kept his gaze fixed on Isabela, as if trying to pull answers from her without the need for words.— I don’t want to fight with you, my love, —Isabela said, using the softest voice she could choose amid the tension that filled the room.— Then don’t force me to, Isabela, —Alejandro responded with tense calm— Not after everything we’ve been through... I don’t deserve to be kept in the dark.Isabela sat up slightly, her thoughts too heavy to remain seated.— It’s not that I want to hide things from you, Alejandro. It’s just… there are certain truths that could change everything. And I’m not sure how you would react if you heard them.A dry, humorless laugh escaped Alejandro’s throat. The way he looked at Isabela made her even more tense, her hands began to tremble slightly.— Isabela, I was between life and death, I lost blood, strength,
Isabela lay beside Alejandro, so close yet careful not to hurt him.But Alejandro missed his wife, so with furtive caresses, he led Isabela into desire.— You know we can’t, my love...— Who said we can’t, my queen?— Alejandro, you’re not well yet and I don’t want to hurt you.— I miss feeling you, my queen. Let me take you to where my imagination is already making love to you.With soft and intense kisses, Alejandro led Isabela to a passionately deep climax. The king possessed his queen, claiming his crown in Isabela’s heart.Christopoulos was no longer someone Alejandro worried about—Isabela belonged to him, and no one could take her away.With her by his side, Alejandro felt strong again, and her love gave him the energy to become the man he used to be before he was hurt.If Christopoulos dared approach his wife, he would be ready to face him.Alejandro Moretti’s certainty that th
Outside, the light rain veiled the rooftops with an almost invisible curtain.Inside, in the basement of an old building that served as the operations center for the “Wolves” unit, a man watched three screens at once.He had a shaved head, steel-colored eyes, and a scar across his chin — a reminder of the unofficial wars he had fought.His name was Dante, one of the most loyal soldiers to Isabela Moretti, and also the most dangerous. In another life, he had been part of a tactical intelligence unit, until the system betrayed him and he joined the “Wolves,” a unit trained by Isabela’s father.Once Andreas was murdered and Isabela asked Alejandro to hide them in Italy, Dante swore loyalty — first to Isabela and then to Alejandro Moretti.Since then, he rented out his talents to the highest bidder. But with the Morettis, he didn’t charge. He only owed favors.Isabela had asked him to trac
Moretti Mansion — 10:45 p.m.The sound of the engines fading away left an echo that refused to die. The flashing lights of the police vehicles still danced in the reflection of the windows, like a reminder of the unreal.A dense, suffocating stillness filled the entire house.Isabela slowly descended the marble staircase. The heel of her sandals echoed hollowly, funereally. She stopped on the last step, her gaze lost in the now-closed gate. The air seemed to weigh tons.—They took him... —she whispered, more to herself than to the servants and guards who pretended not to breathe behind the columns.She let the glass in her hand fall. There was no shatter. The crystal rolled and clinked softly, as if it too knew better than to break the silence.Then, the unthinkable happened.A dry, savage roar burst from her chest. She ripped off her silk coat and threw it to the ground. She stormed into the house as if h
The city trembled under the constant rain, as if trying to wash away its own conscience. But for Vittorio Salvi, the water cleansed nothing. Each drop was a reminder of his failure, of the impunity that rose with the face of a king and the perfume of a queen.Salvi’s office, usually a mess of papers and spilled coffee, had been transformed into a kind of war room. On the corkboard, photos pinned with red tacks drew lines toward names, locations, front businesses, legal aliases and street nicknames.Alejandro Moretti was at the center, of course, but the real challenge was the figure holding everything from the shadows: Isabela Moretti. But she was clean and untouchable.Salvi didn’t say it to anyone, but he had begun to fear her more than Alejandro himself.— That damn woman has steel teeth and lava in her veins instead of blood. Alejandro’s luckier than he thinks to have her as a wife…— I’d like to think my wife woul
The rain fell without strength, but with persistence, as if the sky refused to let the day dawn in peace.In an old shed on the outskirts of the city, hidden under a false name and documents bought with the urgency of fear, Ramiro tried to sleep with a pistol under his pillow and his conscience devouring his soul.He had done the unthinkable.He had talked.He had signed papers, handed over documents.He had sold out Alejandro Moretti.His former boss.The man to whom he had sworn loyalty.Now, he hoped the law would protect him from what was coming next.But the law didn’t know the whole picture.Alejandro Moretti wasn’t alone.A soft knock on the door made him sit up abruptly.Three knocks. Then silence.—“Who is it?” he shouted, his voice rough.—“It’s me, brother.” The voice on the other side of the door was warm. Familiar.Ramiro breathed out, approached the door w
Isabela’s kisses had calmed, for a moment, the whirlwind of thoughts assaulting his soul.Alejandro had always prided himself on staying one step ahead of his enemies, but he had never imagined the enemy would be living under his own roof.That he had unknowingly opened the doors of his home—and his heart—to him.Alejandro valued Ramiro. He considered him his greatest ally, a friend.— This damn business destroys loyalties and affections — he murmured to himself.Looking at Isabela sleeping beside him, Alejandro felt a hollow in his stomach.The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon seeping through the linen curtains.Isabela slept deeply, wrapped in white sheets, her serene expression contrasting with the storm Alejandro carried inside.He had loved her body with desperation, like someone clinging to a last breath before drowning.But neither her skin, nor he
Villa Moretti woke up under an overcast sky. The sea, which usually roared with poetic strength, seemed unusually silent that morning. As if it too sensed that something ominous was coming.Alejandro had been awake since before dawn. He hadn’t slept well since Salvi’s name reappeared on his radar.He checked every message, every email, every file, as if he could catch a ghost before it slipped through his walls.Sitting in front of the large window in his study, his eyes were fixed on the fog over the cliff. In his lap, the Protocollo Nero dossier lay open.A map of connections, allies, enemies, possible traitors, and dormant accounts in tax havens. Each page, a piece of his empire. Each red mark, a target.—Did you get any sleep? —asked Isabela, walking in with a silk coat and her hair still damp.Alejandro closed the dossier and slid it back into the safe.—Sleep is for those without enemies at cour
The Moretti villa in Costa Esmeralda looked like something out of a painting. The sea crashed elegantly against the cliffs, bougainvillea hung from the balconies, and the Italian sun bathed the stone façade as if blessing every inch of the property.But Alejandro didn’t trust perfect places. Nor did he trust weeks that were too quiet. His instinct told him he couldn’t rely on the apparent calm. An enemy could appear from anywhere.Since his return to Italy, he had followed the protocol: reappear as a businessman, cleanse his image in society through charity events, discreet visits to his lawyers, and zero contact with the past.A resurrected ghost in Italian suits and diplomatic manners.And yet, something felt… off. Something in the air unsettled him, as if the wind was warning of a storm, even though the sun reigned high in the sky.—"What’s worrying you, Alejandro?"—Isabela asked, approaching him as he stood on the
The journey back to Italy was as pleasant as it was safe.On a private jet, Alejandro and his family returned without setbacks, leaving behind Greece and a person they had grown to appreciate very much.Miguel.He had decided to stay in Greece with his woman, who was expecting his child.At first, Alejandro didn’t like the idea. Miguel had served him since he was very young, loyally by his side for years.But convinced by Isabela, Alejandro let Miguel go so he could marry Katherine, his former nurse, and start his family in Greece.Miguel would not serve Nikos; his loyalty was only to Alejandro.Melina, at her son Nikos’s request, got him a job at the Italian embassy. Miguel was now an honorable citizen with no criminal past.Grateful to Melina, Isabela left a friend behind—free from the hell she herself wished to escape.While Alejandro and his family arrived at their mansion in Cos
The sun slowly descended over the Greek horizon, tinting the columns of the Mikelos mansion in gold, as if time wished to linger a few more sacred seconds in that twilight moment.Isabela sat on the upper terrace, the one that opened directly to the Aegean Sea, where the sea breeze carried echoes of her childhood among ruins, bougainvilleas, and memories that hurt and caressed all at once.The air smelled of jasmine and hot stone, of history and broken promises. Her father’s mansion stood tall, surrounded by vineyards that stretched across the hills, as if the past tried to hold her tight.And yet, despite being surrounded by people who had watched her grow and appreciated her, despite her last name and her story, Isabela no longer felt at home—she felt like a guest in that enormous mansion.Her brother Nikos laughed in the music room, accompanied by his fiancée and by Alejandro and his children, Mateo and sweet little Lucía.