Chapter 5 - The Shadow of the Past
Two weeks after the night of the poisoned engagement, the rain fell steadily over the concrete jungle of New York City.
Inside the penthouse of the Moretti estate, however, the air was warm and smelled of cinnamon and fresh flowers.
Emma ran across the thick Persian rug in the living room, wearing a soft yellow dress with shiny patent-leather shoes that squeaked with every step. She held a brand-new stuffed bear in one arm, her small laughter filling the high-ceilinged room.
Behind her walked Aleandro.
The feared Don of the New York underworld was currently walking on his hands and knees across his own living room floor, pretending to be a giant bear chasing his daughter.
"I’m going to catch you!" Aleandro growled playfully, letting out a soft roar.
Emma shrieked with laughter, ducking behind a velvet sofa. "You can't catch me, Daddy! I’m too fast!"
Daddy.
The word still sent a powerful, overwhelming tremor through Aleandro’s heart every single time she said it. Over the past fourteen days, he had spent every spare hour away from his business learning how to be a father. He had learned how to braid small curls, how to read bedtime stories about magic dragons, and how to hold a three-year-old girl without hurting her.
Sophia sat on the window sill, watching them with a warm, peaceful smile. She wore a simple navy blue silk dress, her long brown hair flowing over her shoulders. The dark circles under her eyes were gone, replaced by a radiant glow.
Yet, as she looked down at the city streets twenty stories below, a flicker of anxiety touched her face.
Aleandro noticed it instantly. He stood up, dusted off his knees, and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"What are you thinking about?" he murmured, kissing her cheek softly.
"It’s too much, Aleandro," Sophia whispered, resting her head against his chest. "Two weeks ago, I was sleeping in a one-room apartment over a laundromat, worrying about buying milk. Now I have six bodyguards following me when I go to the park. People bow to me in the hallways. I feel like I’m living in someone else’s dream."
"It’s not a dream, Sophia," Aleandro said, turning her around in his arms so she faced him. "It’s the life you and Emma should have had four years ago. I spent four years living in the dark, thinking love was a liability. You brought light back into this house."
"But your business..." Sophia looked at him worriedly. "Marco told me some of your captains are angry. They don't like that you cleared my name. They don't like that a former housemaid is going to be the mistress of the Moretti family."
Aleandro’s eyes darkened slightly, though his hands remained gentle on her waist.
"My captains do what they are told," Aleandro said coolly. "There is only one man left who thinks he can challenge my authority."
"Who?"
"Don Vincente Romano," Aleandro said. "Valentina’s uncle. He controls the Staten Island docks. He believes his brother was framed, and he’s been gathering men near the harbor."
Sophia felt her blood run cold. "Aleandro... please. No more blood. I don't want Emma growing up in a war."
Before Aleandro could answer, the heavy double doors of the penthouse burst open.
Marco rushed in, his face pale, his arm bleeding through his torn suit jacket.
"Boss!" Marco shouted, breathing heavily. "It’s an ambush! Vincente’s men... they bypassed the gate security! They’re inside the building!"
Gunfire suddenly erupted from the floor below—the deafening rattle of automatic rifles echoing up through the elevator shafts.
Sophia gasped, screaming as she lunged across the room to snatch Emma into her arms. Emma buried her face in her mother's neck, crying in terror as the loud noises shook the walls.
Aleandro did not panic. He moved with lightning speed.
He walked over to the mahogany bookcase, pulled a hidden brass lever, and watched as a massive wall section slid open, revealing a heavily reinforced steel safe room equipped with independent security monitors and weapons.
"Get inside," Aleandro commanded, shoving Sophia and Emma through the doorway.
"Aleandro, no!" Sophia wept, grabbing his shirt. "Come with us! Lock the door!"
"I am not hiding in a safe room while men bring guns into my home," Aleandro said, his voice dropping into that terrifying, absolute tone that made mountains move. He pulled a silver 9mm handgun from his shoulder holster, checking the magazine with a practiced click.
He leaned down, pressing a hard kiss to Sophia’s lips, and then touched Emma’s soft hair.
"Stay here," Aleandro whispered. "I will be back in five minutes."
He slammed the heavy steel door shut, locking them inside from the outside.
Aleandro turned around. The tenderness in his eyes was completely vanished, replaced by an ancient, merciless fury. He looked at Marco, who was holding a submachine gun.
"Marco," Aleandro said, his voice terrifyingly calm as the sound of footsteps echoed up the grand staircase.
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"Yes, Boss?"
"Kill every single one of them."
