The night was thick with silence, the kind that only wealth and power could buy. The Moretti estate—resting on the cliffs of the Californian coast—breathed danger and elegance in equal measure. Armed guards watched from hidden posts, the surveillance system blinked quietly, and every inch of the compound screamed one name: Luca Moretti.
But within those walls, something was shifting. The man of shadows, feared by politicians, loved by criminals, was softening. And all because of her.
Rose.
She now lived under his roof. It had started with Luca suggesting she take a room in his estate, for safety, he said. With everything going on, he didn't trust the outside world with her life.
"They won't get to you, Rose. Not while I breathe," he had whispered the night she moved in, his voice like smoke in the dark.
At first, she had protested, worried about what people might think, what he might expect. But Luca had kept it professional. No touching, no pressure. Just kindness.
Then came the gifts.
Designer dresses she never asked for, custom jewelry from Italy, a hand-written note every morning with breakfast. Her closet changed overnight from thrift store finds to Chanel and Versace. He watched her eyes light up as she discovered each gift. He didn't care about the cost; it was the way her smile bloomed that made his chest tighten.
Rose began to feel safe, even happy. Her guard loosened, her smiles became more frequent, and her laughter echoed down the halls of the once-cold mansion.
And through it all, Luca watched. Protecting. Desiring. Falling.
Rose often visited the LMD building still, mostly to check on her projects, but her real reason was someone else: Moga.
There was something about Moga that Rose couldn't explain. The red-haired woman with a cold gaze and dangerous aura had somehow become her confidante. Maybe it was because Moga listened without judgment, or because Rose had no one else.
They'd sit in Moga's office for hours, sipping coffee or wine, talking about everything from life to love.
One day, Rose opened up fully. Her voice trembled with emotion.
"I think... I think I'm falling in love with Luca," she said softly.
Moga blinked, silent.
"He scares me sometimes. Not because he would hurt me... but because I feel like he would burn the whole world just to keep me."
Moga lit a cigarette, her face unreadable. Inside, her chest ached. She had once told herself she would never feel again. But watching Rose talk about Luca with such innocence
made something break inside her.
Weeks passed. And the inevitable happened.
The night air was heavy with rain. Luca had just returned from a brutal negotiation with a foreign syndicate. He was exhausted, bloody knuckled, and hungry—not for food, but for her.
He found her in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing one of his shirts.
"You're hurt," she gasped, rushing to him.
He didn't speak. Just stared at her.
He cupped her cheek with his bruised hand. "You have no idea what you do to me, Rose."
She leaned into his touch.
And then their lips met.
It was slow at first. Gentle. But as their emotions spilled, the kiss deepened, grew hot, desperate.
He lifted her onto the marble counter. She wrapped her legs around him, their breaths mingling, the heat between them unbearable.
"Are you sure?" Luca asked, trembling.
Rose only nodded, her eyes glowing.
That night, they made love like it was the end of the world. Luca was shocked when he realized she was a virgin. He paused, looking into her eyes with reverence.
"You gave this to me?"
Rose only nodded.
Luca kissed her forehead. And then worshiped her body like a temple.
After that night, everything changed.
He became obsessed with her safety. She found GPS trackers discreetly added to her car and phone. Bodyguards started following her—not that she wanted them to.
"Luca, this is too much. I don't need men following me everywhere," she said one morning.
Luca stared at her, eyes dark.
"You don't get to need them. I need them for you."
It wasn't a request.
Still, she smiled. Because behind his madness, she saw his heart. A broken man trying to love in the only way he knew.
And then came the news she didn't expect.
One morning, her mother woke up in a private hospital in Los Angeles. Transplant complete. Bills paid in full.
Her little brother? Sent to a prestigious boarding school in Boston. Everything taken care of.
She rushed to Luca, tears in her eyes.
"You did this for me?"
Luca shrugged, lighting a cigar. "I did it because I can."
She threw herself into his arms. "I don't know how to thank you."
He whispered into her ear, "Just stay. That's all I want."
But in the shadows, Moga watched. The diary entries, the affection, the trust. All of it.
------
(Moga's POV)
The room was dim. The air heavy. Smoke circled around me in lazy loops as I sat, cigarette between my lips, heart pacing like war drums. I didn't flinch. I didn't blink. I just waited—for fate, for death, for war. I was ready for whatever came first.
I stared out the window of my hideout in downtown Chicago. The city hadn't changed. Same bloody skyline. Same lying faces. But I had changed. I had turned into something unrecognizable, forged by fire and sharpened by loss. I was no longer Morgana the heir, no longer the child who once laughed in silks and gold. I was the ghost of the Moretti empire. The daughter of a murdered king. The shadow in the wind.
My full name is Morgana Moretti.
And I've come back for blood.
---
Seventeen Years Ago
I was only eight.
Just a kid with toys, red hair, and innocent dreams. My world back then was music, dolls, and the soft giggles of my mother in the kitchen. My father, Luis Moretti, was the heir of the Moretti mafia empire—the most feared family in Chicago. Powerful. Respected. Untouchable. At least, that's what we believed.
Dad trusted too easily. That was his first mistake. He took his younger brother, Dubious, along on everything. Treated him like a second son. Gave him power. Access. A seat at the table. But the truth is, envy doesn't knock before it enters. It festers in the shadows.
Mom always sensed it.
"Do you really have to trust him that much?" she'd ask again and again, her voice strained.
"He's my brother. I see nothing wrong with it," Dad would reply, blind to the monster growing beside him.
Luca was Dubious's son—my cousin. He was two years older than me. Back then, he was soft, a little crybaby always tagging along when Dubious dropped him off with us. His mother had left them. I thought he was harmless. We played. We laughed. We even shared birthday cakes.
I didn't know he would grow up to become the devil's son.
---
The day everything changed started like a dream.
We were going on a family vacation. Just me, my parents, and my teddy bear. I remember the scent of my mom's perfume as she dressed me in my favorite purple dress and combed my hair into a ponytail. Dad was smiling. Mom was glowing. She was heavily pregnant. My little brother was almost here.
The car ride was peaceful. Dad was driving, mom rubbing her belly and smiling at him. I was in the backseat playing with my teddy. Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" played softly from the stereo. I remember Mom turning to hold my tiny hand.
Then everything turned black.
A massive truck came out of nowhere, horns screaming, lights blinding—and then impact. Steel crushed bone. Glass exploded. My world flipped.
When I opened my eyes, I couldn't breathe. Blood was everywhere. The car was mangled beyond recognition. My mother's hand still clutched mine, but her body... her legs were gone. Her stomach torn open. Blood soaked her dress. My dad's head was twisted grotesquely, face buried in the crushed dashboard.
I screamed, or at least I think I did.
Then... I saw him.
The driver of the truck stepped out. Slow. Calculated. Wearing a black leather coat. I could barely see through the cracks in the glass, but I saw the smirk on his face. He was confirming the kill.
Uncle Dubious.
And just before I blacked out again, I saw Luca in the passenger seat behind him.
---
I woke up in the hospital, my arm dislocated, ribs cracked. I survived.
But I never lived again.
I had no one. No family. No money. No protection. Dubious erased every trace of me. Took everything. I roamed the streets. I begged for food. I slept in alleys. But I survived.
And one day, fate gave me another chance.
Vittoris found me. Another mafia lord. Ruthless. Cold. Everything Dubious feared. He took me in, raised me as his own, and trained me. Guns, knives, seduction, manipulation—I learned it all. I was shaped into a weapon.
But I never forgot.
I tried once to kill Dubious with a headshot years ago. I failed. I wasn't ready. He was too strong, too protected. And Luca? He was worse. He had become everything his father was—only smarter, crueler, more calculated.
---
Present Day
I crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.
It's time.
They think I'm gone. They think I gave up. But I've been watching. Studying. I came back to Chicago and found my way into their nest—LMD Suites. I eliminated the former chief staff, stole her identity, cleaned up the blood, and took her place. No one suspects me. The few who knew me from before are dead or bribed.
Rose... poor little Rose.
The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the bait I needed. That perfect body. That innocent face. She was the type Luca always drooled over. I sent her into his path like a lamb among lions, and just as I hoped, he bit the hook.
He fell for her.
At first, it didn't go as planned. She resisted. I was furious. But then he called—asking to buy her full time. That was the crack I needed. Once a mafian starts to fall in love, he becomes weak. He hesitates. He forgets to look over his shoulder.
Now, Luca's unraveling.
I've seen him try to bed other women. Fail. I've seen him gift Rose countless luxuries. I've seen the way he looks at her—like she's his salvation.
And that's where he'll burn.
Because I'm going to use the exact thing he's trying to protect to destroy him.
And once I'm done, I'll put a bullet through his heart.
---
Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't wipe them.
I welcomed the pain.
I would bleed a thousand times over if it meant seeing Dubious and Luca begging for their lives, choking on their blood. This wasn't about vengeance anymore.
It was justice.
Justice for my mother.
Justice for my father.
Justice for the brother I never got to meet.
And the game has only just begun.
I pulled the curtain back and looked a
t the moon.
"Sleep well, Luca. Soon, you'll wake up in a world where I own your soul."
I smiled.
Let the real war begin.