Serena Vale had never been good at sleeping after a courtroom victory. Her colleagues would celebrate, toasting over wine and laughter, but for her, the silence after the fight always weighed heavier than the noise during it. Tonight was no different.
The apartment was still. Outside, the city hummed with muted life—the occasional car rushing past, a faint siren in the distance—but inside her living room, only the glow of her laptop screen lit her face.
Her mind replayed Santorutto's words again and again.
"You'll die like your father. You and your mother both."
The fury in his eyes, the conviction in his voice, sent a chill racing down her spine. He hadn't just been spitting empty threats. He had known something.
Serena pressed her palms against her temples, pushing her hair back as frustration swelled. Her father's death had been ruled a car accident. A tragic skid on a rainy road. She'd been only twelve, too young to question, too young to dig. But now, with Santorutto's words gnawing at her, she couldn't help but wonder: What if it hadn't been an accident at all?
She opened her father's old case files—documents she'd stolen from her mother's storage years ago when she first decided to study law. They were faded, yellowed, but still intact. Scrolling through scanned pages, she noticed something she had never paid attention to before.
A name.
The Moretti family.
It was scribbled in the margins of one report. Not in her father's handwriting, but in another officer's notes. A mafia family suspected of illegal arms trade, racketeering, and money laundering. The very same family name she'd heard whispered around the courthouse lobby earlier that day, from an older lawyer who seemed terrified even saying it aloud.
Her pulse quickened.
Moretti.
Her thoughts flashed back to the dinner. To the tall, magnetic man with sharp eyes and an even sharper smile. Dante. The way he had studied her, almost like he knew her, like he could see right through her professional armor.
"Serena?" A voice broke her thoughts.
Jade stood in the doorway, wrapped in a soft robe, her pregnant belly just visible beneath it. She rubbed her eyes, sleep-heavy but concerned. "Why are you still awake? It's past two."
Serena closed the laptop halfway, not wanting to alarm her friend. "Couldn't sleep."
Jade shuffled closer, lowering herself onto the couch beside her. "You're obsessing again."
Serena gave a soft laugh, but her voice cracked. "Santorutto said something about my father… something I can't ignore. And then I found this." She nudged the file toward Jade. "The Moretti family. His death report mentioned them."
Jade frowned, skimming the page. "Serena, you don't know what you're stepping into. If your father had connections to this family, it could mean—" She paused, lowering her voice, "—danger. For you. For your mom."
"I have to know," Serena whispered, more to herself than Jade.
Before Jade could answer, the apartment door creaked. Chloe padded in, messy bun on top of her head, a glass of water in hand. "Why are you two whispering like it's some midnight secret club?"
"It is," Jade muttered dryly, handing her the file.
Chloe read, her brows knitting. "The Morettis? I've heard of them. Big players, but no one touches them. Serena, if you're digging into this, you're basically lighting a match in a room full of gasoline."
Serena clenched her jaw. "Then let it burn."
Maya appeared last, yawning, hair in a loose braid. "Figures. Only Serena would chase a mafia ghost story at two in the morning." She dropped onto the armchair, folding her arms. "But… I hate to admit it, this doesn't look like nothing. You're not wrong."
The four of them sat in heavy silence, the weight of danger settling between them. Finally, Jade reached for Serena's hand. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't do anything reckless."
Serena nodded, though her heart already knew she couldn't keep that promise.
Across the city, Dante Moretti leaned against the balcony of his penthouse office, cigarette smoke curling into the night air. The lights of the skyline glittered, a thousand stars on the ground, but his focus was elsewhere.
He had seen her again. Serena Vale.
She was everything he expected—sharp, unyielding, fearless even when the world around her was full of wolves. She didn't realize it yet, but her curiosity was leading her straight into his world.
Inside his office, a man approached cautiously. Luca, one of his most trusted lieutenants. "Boss, the girl… she's digging. Files on her father. She's asking questions about Santorutto's threats."
Dante exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his lips. "Of course she is. She's her father's daughter."
"You want me to stop her?"
Dante turned, eyes cold. "No. Let her dig. Let her believe she's uncovering the truth. But keep her alive. No one touches her."
Luca hesitated. "Boss, she's going to find connections that lead back to us. To you."
"That's the point," Dante said softly, almost to himself. "Some truths… she has to see for herself."
He stubbed out the cigarette, his mind replaying their brief encounters—the courtroom lobby, the dinner, the way she had looked at him with suspicion and something else, something unspoken.
She was getting closer to the truth. And when she reached it, she would realize the man she had bumped into, the man who had charmed her over dinner, was the very same shadow behind her father's death.
And yet… Dante wasn't sure if he wanted to protect her from that truth, or drag her deeper into it.
Back in her apartment, Serena finally closed her laptop, exhaustion winning over obsession. But as she drifted toward uneasy sleep, one thought burned in her mind:
Moretti.
The same name on the file. The same name tied to whispers of power and blood.
The same name as the man she couldn't get out of her head.