Chapter 1
The afternoon sun bathed the private Bellandi estate in brilliant, cinematic light. There were no muddy shadows or dull yellow tints to spoil the atmosphere; instead, the vivid, saturated green of the manicured lawn contrasted beautifully with the stark white of the event tents. It was a flawless summer day. Guests in expensive clothing milled about the garden, their fair, rosy skin glowing with health and wealth. Crisp American accents floated over the clinking of crystal glasses and the soft hum of background conversation.
Serafina Bellandi stood near the edge of the patio, sipping sparkling water. At forty years old, she possessed a striking, elegant beauty that masked a deeply intimidating aura. She wore a tailored, casual three-piece suit in a bright, nautical navy blue that complemented her rosy complexion perfectly. A heavy gold signet ring rested on her right hand, catching the sunlight alongside her expensive wristwatch and diamond earrings.
"The caterers have finally brought out the main courses," a nearby capo noted, his American accent smooth and respectful as he paused beside her.
"Make sure the perimeter guards are rotated before they eat," Serafina replied, her voice calm but carrying the unmistakable weight of command. "I don't want any blind spots by the south gate."
"Right away, ma'am," the capo said, giving a sharp nod before slipping back into the crowd.
Serafina’s sharp eyes tracked across the bright lawn, searching for her children. She spotted them near a cluster of padded garden benches and stacked lightweight chairs. Twelve-year-old Leo, looking neat in a casual button-down shirt and trousers, was trying to show his eight-year-old sister, Mia, a new game on his phone. Mia, wearing a bright yellow summer dress, a white cardigan, and sandals, laughed brightly at whatever was on the screen.
"They are growing up too fast, Serafina," a slick, condescending voice drawled from her left.
Serafina didn’t turn her head. She knew the voice. It belonged to Nolan Bellandi, her forty-two-year-old cousin. Nolan stepped into her peripheral vision, wearing an expensive, brightly colored polo shirt, tailored trousers, and loafers. His fair skin was slightly flushed from the summer heat and perhaps a few too many drinks.
"They are children, Nolan," Serafina said coolly. "They grow exactly at the pace they are meant to."
"Maybe," Nolan chuckled, a harsh, grating sound. "But in our family, children need to be tough. Leo looks a little soft. Spending too much time in the books, if you ask me."
"I didn't ask you," Serafina said, finally turning to meet his gaze. "My son’s upbringing is none of your concern."
"Just looking out for the bloodline," Nolan smirked, raising his glass. "Someone has to make sure the boy knows how the real world works."
May you like
Serafina’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Stay away from my children, Nolan. Enjoy the party, eat the food, and keep your opinions to yourself."
Nolan rolled his eyes, wandering off toward the lawn with a scoff, leaving Serafina to watch him like a hawk tracking a rat.
