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Reclaiming My Path
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I pushed the door open and saw Giovanna standing there in my silk robe—my gift from Enzo—and wearing my heirloom pendant. She lifted a brow and mocked me, “The robe fits, the pendant’s mine, and you—get out.” I grabbed Enzo, demanding an explanation, but he shoved a fake contract in my face, saying, “You signed it.” “I did not. Stop lying!” I snapped. He snapped at me, “This is family business. You know nothing.” It seemed three years together was nothing but an act. That very night, I ran away to Milan. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to until Mark showed up out of nowhere. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ve got you. As long as I’m around, no one touches you.” He protected me, and for a moment, I really thought I’d finally found someone I could rely on. However, when we were practicing at the shooting range later, I stared at him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that mess I left behind.” His eyes flickered for a second before he answered, “Just trust me. That’s all you need to do.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. This whole disaster was all one giant setup. And now here I am, gripping a gun, fighting for justice, but am I really avenging myself? Or was I already someone else’s pawn from the very beginning?
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Reclaiming My Path Chapter 14
Autumn in Milan always carried a damp chill. I had just finished a video call with a client in Rome when Mark walked in, holding a telegram from Sicily. His expression was darker than the overcast sky outside.“Miss Lily, something’s happened in Sicily.” He handed me the telegram, his fingers trembling ever so slightly.The handwriting was messy, but the words hit like a punch. “Enzo was arrested at the Sicilian port for involvement in a Camorra smuggling case and an accidental civilian death from three years ago. He’s been handed over to the New York authorities.”My knuckles went white as I gripped the paper—not from shock, but because I remembered the way he looked when he left New York three months ago. He had stood on the dock, clutching the list of Giovanna’s leftover associates. “I’m going to Sicily to clean up old business… and make things right so that you can have peace of mind,” he had said.Now, I realized some stains simply couldn’t be washed away, like the seeds of
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 13
In the days that followed, I threw myself completely into the work at the docks. Mark stayed by my side, handling all sorts of matters for me. He was meticulous in making sure everything I needed was taken care of. One evening, Mark handed me a document and said, “Miss Lily, a client in Milan wants to expand our partnership. They’d like you to make your way there to sign a formal contract.”I took the document, flipping through it. “Alright. We’ll head to Milan next week. We might as well check out the new warehouse while we’re there.”On the plane to Milan, I leaned back in my seat, staring out at the endless blue sky. Mark sat beside me and handed me a magazine. “You’ve been overworking yourself lately. Try to rest on the flight,” he advised.I accepted it but didn’t read it. Instead, I looked at him. “Mark, thank you. If it weren’t for you, I might still be in hiding.”He gave a small, gentle smile. “It’s what I should’ve done. Your father saved my life years ago, so helping
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 12
By five o’clock the next morning, before the sun had even risen, the docks were already crowded with people. Our workers, members of other organizations, and Mark’s old crew were all there, armed and ready, their eyes steady with determination.Enzo was also there, dressed in black tactical gear, a submachine gun in his hands. He stood beside me. “Lily,” he said, “if it gets messy, stay right behind me. Don’t rush forward.”I shook my head and drew my pistol from my waist. “I’m not the same Lily as before. I’m the heir of the Moretti family. I’ll fight alongside everyone.”Enzo’s eyes flickered with something unreadable and complicated, but he finally nodded. “Alright. Just be careful.”At six o’clock, the distant roar of trucks echoed across the docks. Lorenzo Conti and the remaining Camorra forces had arrived, with a dozen trucks blocking the dock entrance. Burly men jumped down, wielding steel pipes and knives, their presence aggressive and threatening.“Moretti family!” the
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 11
Friday night, I was on a video call with a client in Milan when my phone suddenly rang. It was Papa calling.I quickly ended the call and answered.“Lily…” His voice was weak, roughened by a cough. “The family docks… They’re being targeted by the remaining Camorra forces. They set fire to the warehouse and injured three of our workers. I need you to come back and take charge.”My heart sank. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”“I’m fine. I’m just old and weary,” he said, coughing again. “Enzo is helping, but he’s not a Moretti. People don’t respect him. Lily, only you can stabilize things.”After hanging up, I sank into my chair, my mind racing.Milan’s new partnership was finally taking shape, and now the New York docks were in crisis. On one side was my fledgling career, and on the other was my family responsibility. I had no choice.“I’m going back to New York,” I told Mark.He nodded. “I’ll come with you. Don’t worry. I’ll handle the Milan clients, and together we’ll manage t
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 9
I returned to the apartment that evening, and a brown leather envelope hung from the doorknob. A black rose emblem—the Camorra’s mark—was stamped on the seal.My heart sank. I tore it open, and inside were several photos of Enzo tied to a chair with blood streaming down his forehead, his wrists red
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 6
I found a small inn near the central station and checked into a single room. The room was tiny but quiet, and outside the window was a narrow alley. I set my suitcase in the corner, unzipped it, and began organizing my things.From my backpack, I pulled out the bloodstained handkerchief and unfolde
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 8
The weekend sunlight filtered through tree leaves and spilled across the cobblestone streets of Milan’s old town. I was carrying a box of fresh strawberries I’d just bought when I turned a corner and ran straight into a familiar chest—Enzo’s.He had lost weight, with dark stubble shadowing his jaw,
Reclaiming My Path Chapter 7
The early morning fog at the train station in Milan enveloped me, chilling me to the bone.I held my suitcase so tightly that my knuckles had turned white, the brim of my hat pulled low over my eyes. I didn’t want to run into anyone from the Camorra, and even more, I didn’t want to see Enzo’s face.
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