Chapter 1
The heavy mahogany doors of the Moretti estate swung open, letting in a flood of bright, natural sunlight. The cinematic lighting of the grand foyer was immaculate, entirely devoid of any dull yellow tint. It cast a pristine, luminous glow over the polished marble floors and the crystal chandeliers above. The air was crisp, highlighting the vivid, bright colors of the opulent surroundings. Emily Moretti stepped over the threshold, her black leather suitcase rolling smoothly behind her. At twenty-nine years old, she was breathtakingly beautiful, radiating the powerful, deeply intimidating aura of a veteran Mafia boss. She wore a tailored dark travel suit that hugged her frame perfectly, complemented by sharp heels, diamond earrings, and the heavy gold family signet ring resting on her finger. Her fair, rosy skin was flawless, catching the bright light as she took her first breath of home after five grueling years managing secret overseas operations for the family syndicate.
The estate was alive with the sounds of a lavish family dinner. White American capos, bodyguards, and family members were gathered in the adjacent dining room, their sharp American accents echoing through the halls. But the warm welcome Emily had expected was entirely absent. Instead of her husband, a woman she barely recognized walked directly toward her from the dining room. It was Natalie Cross, a thirty-year-old woman with a fair, rosy complexion, wearing a tightly fitted red dress and expensive jewelry.
Natalie did not hesitate. With a vicious, calculated swiftness, she raised the crystal glass in her hand and threw an entire splash of dark red wine directly across Emily’s face.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Emily demanded, her voice a low, dangerous rumble as the wine dripped from her chin onto her tailored suit.
Before Emily could even wipe the liquid from her eyes, Natalie stepped forward and delivered a hard, stinging slap across Emily’s cheek. The sharp sound echoed through the grand foyer, instantly silencing the chatter in the dining room.
Emily slowly turned her head, her cold, calculating eyes locking onto the man standing just a few feet behind Natalie. It was Ryan Moretti, her forty-two-year-old husband and the acting Mafia underboss. He wore an expensive button-down shirt, tailored trousers, his wedding ring, and polished shoes. Yet, instead of stopping the woman, Ryan remained completely still, his hands resting casually in his pockets, his fair face betraying no emotion.
"Ryan," Emily said, her American accent dripping with lethal intent. "Are you going to explain why your mistress just put her hands on the head of this family?"
Ryan offered a slight, dismissive shrug. "Things change when you abandon your family, Emily. You left a void. We simply filled it."
Natalie took a step closer, a victorious, venomous smirk twisting her rosy lips. She looked Emily up and down, reveling in the moment she had fantasized about for years.
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“You disappeared," Natalie said, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. "I took your place.”
"I did not disappear," Emily replied, her voice dead calm, her eyes narrowing as she stared the woman down. "I was securing the European ports so this family could eat. But it seems the rats have taken over the kitchen while I was away. Where is my son?"
