Chapter Five - The Woman at The Gate

Lucian Moretti – POV 

Morning comes late in this house.

The sun reaches us long after the city has burned through its hunger. Here, beyond the gates, light doesn’t chase shadows — it kneels to them.

I was in my study when the knock came. Soft. Hesitant. That told me it wasn’t one of the guards.

“Enter,” I said.

The door creaked open, and Matteo stepped inside. Broad-shouldered, suited, steady — he’d been with the family longer than most blood relatives. His jaw was set, his hands clasped behind his back. But the flicker in his eyes told me this wasn’t a routine report.

“What is it?” I asked, setting down my pen.

“There’s a woman at the gate,” he said.

My brow twitched. “A woman?”

He nodded. “Older. Says she’s here on behalf of the Vellaros.”

That name pulled the air taut.

The Vellaros. A dynasty shattered in fire and betrayal. A ghost house now — ruled by a man everyone feared, but no one respected. Danta Vellaro.

He had power, but not control. A brute. A vulture wearing a crown.

And now, a woman from his house stood at my gates.

“What does she want?” I asked.

“She’s asking for you, specifically. Says she needs to speak to you”

Interesting.

“Did she give a name?”

“Gloria. No surname.”

I stilled.

I’d heard the name whispered before. Quietly. Carefully. The servant who once walked beside Celeste Vellaro herself. A ghost that vanished after the queen’s death.

“Bring her in,” I said.

Matteo hesitated. “Sir, she’s… wounded. Looks like she’s been running.”

“Then she’s worth listening to.”

He gave a curt nod and left.

I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin. My office was silent save for the ticking of the old brass clock — a gift from my mother before her death. It was one of the few things in this house that still sounded alive.

A Vellaro servant arriving unannounced… bleeding… begging an audience.

It wasn’t chance. Not in this world.

Either she carried something worth dying for — or she was the spark of a war my father thought long buried.

And I’d never been one to shy from the smell of gunpowder.

Five minutes later, the door opened again.

Matteo entered first, then stepped aside.

She followed slowly — older, frail, her clothes torn and bloodstained. One arm was wrapped tight in makeshift bandages; the other clutched a small, leather-bound case pressed against her chest. Her face was pale, lined with exhaustion, but her eyes… her eyes burned with purpose.

She dropped to her knees before I could speak.

“Don Moretti,” she rasped. “I’ve come for your son.”

“I’m right here,” I said, standing.

She lifted her head, breath catching. “Lucian Moretti.”

Her voice trembled on my name like it carried weight.

I walked toward her, each step measured. “You’ve crossed dangerous ground to reach this door.”

“I had no choice,” she said. “They would have killed her.”

My gaze sharpened. “Who?”

“The girl.”

“What girl?”

She hesitated, clutching the case tighter. Her hands shook. “The heir.”

A chill threaded through me.

“Speak clearly, woman.”

“Seraphina Vellaro,” she whispered. “Daughter of Celeste. The last of her blood.”

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone.

Seraphina Vellaro. The blind child. The rumor turned flesh.

“She’s alive,” I said.

“Alive,” Gloria breathed. “But not safe. Not free. Not for long.”

She coughed, wincing. Matteo moved forward, but she waved him off. “I can stand,” she muttered, pushing herself upright. “I’ve traveled three nights, through the old roads. They’re watching. They know I’ve taken it.”

My eyes dropped to the case.

“What’s that?”

She hesitated. “Her mother’s relic. The journal.”

So it was true. Celeste’s blood-coded legacy — a book that could unearth every secret the underworld buried after her death. Names. Deals. Vaults. The blueprint of an empire.

And it was here, in my house.

I stepped closer. “Why bring it to me?”

She looked up, eyes glistening. “Because Celeste trusted no one else.”

That name stirred something buried. Memories of my father’s old allies, of deals made in smoke and loyalty. The Morettis and the Vellaros — once bound by blood, then severed by betrayal. I was too young to remember the fall, but I remembered the silence that followed.

“You want me to protect the girl,” I said.

She nodded. “He will kill her .He blames her for what her mother left behind. He—” her voice broke, “—he’s turned her life into a pain.”

My jaw tightened.

Danta Vellaro. I’d heard the stories. The way he treated his soldiers. His women. His daughter. I didn’t believe all rumors — but the cruelty in Gloria’s tone wasn’t rumor. It was fact.

“And you?” I asked quietly. “You abandoned her.”

Her breath hitched. “I had to. If I’d stayed, we’d both be dead. But I swear to you — I will go back for her. I just needed someone with power. Someone who can open the gates I can’t.”

I studied her, then the case, then the blood drying on her hands. She was no liar. No schemer. Just a woman desperate enough to cross into a wolf’s den carrying a queen’s ghost.

Matteo shifted beside me. “You believe her?”

I didn’t answer immediately. My mind was already moving — threads weaving, pieces falling into place.

If Seraphina truly lived, and the relic existed… then Danta would come for it. For her. For anyone who stood between them.

A storm was coming. 

And luckily ’d been waiting for one.

“Get her cleaned up,” I said at last. “See that her wounds are treated. Feed her.”

Matteo nodded.

“And the case,” I added, glancing at it. “Lock it in my vault. No one touches it.”

Gloria’s voice stopped him at the door. “You’ll help her?”

I looked at her. At the trembling devotion in her face. “I don’t do charity.”

“This isn’t charity,” she said softly. “It’s justice.”

That word lingered as she was led out — heavy, dangerous, familiar.

Justice.

In our world, justice was just another word for revenge.

When the room was silent again, I turned to the window. The morning sun tried to push through the glass, pale and weak. Below, the iron gates stood open, waiting to close behind a ghost who’d brought me a key.

A blind heir.

A stolen relic.

And a cage I was already curious to break.