My father was a soldato for the Moretti family, killed in the line of duty protecting the Don, Vince Moretti.

Stricken with guilt, Vince took me in as his ward, raising me as his own daughter.

But as I blossomed into a woman, his protection twisted into a gilded cage.

I developed a forbidden love for my guardian—a secret I thought I could keep forever.

When Vince discovered the truth, shock gave way to an uncontrollable rage.

He cast me out of his world, this den of vipers, without a second thought.

Now, five years later, I have returned to New York City—with a child in tow.

In a metropolis built on power and blood, a future of fire and retribution awaits us.

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1

The plane touched down at JFK, but the reality of it still hadn't sunk in.

Five years ago, Vince Moretti had shipped me away like a piece of discarded luggage.

I never thought I would come back.

He had made it clear he never wanted to see me again.

But he was the one who sent the plane ticket.

A summons, really. An order to attend the fifth anniversary of his marriage to Sofia Falcone.

After two layovers and a grueling long-haul flight, we were exhausted.

Leo slept well on the plane, but he started getting fussy after we landed.

"Mamma, my legs are sore," he whimpered.

I immediately scooped him up and headed for the exit.

I was about to pull out my phone to order a car when it rang in my hand.

Looking at the familiar number, I hesitated.

I let it ring.

The phone rang again almost immediately, as persistent as its owner.

I took a deep breath and answered.

"Isabella."

Vince’s voice sliced through the line, cold and devoid of warmth.

"Are you at arrivals? My consigliere, Marco, is waiting for you." His tone was clipped, an order, not a question.

A sarcastic smile touched my lips. "I can get my own cab."

There was a second of silence on the other end.

He probably didn't expect me to refuse.

The old me never would have. He arranged everything; my only job was to obey.

When Vince spoke again, his voice was laced with ice. "Let Marco drive you. I've already arranged a gift for you to give Sofia. It's in the trunk. You'll present it to her at the party tonight."

Still the thoughtful guardian, saving me from any potential embarrassment.

The same way he’d spend a fortune on a venue or hunt down a rare diamond at auction, all just to make Sofia smile.

"Understood," I answered, the single word heavy with exhaustion as I rubbed my temples.

Vince didn't respond, but he didn't hang up either.

A few seconds later, he finally broke the silence, as if delivering an ultimatum.

"Isabella, you've been gone for five years. I hope you've learned the rules. If you dare threaten Sofia's position…"

His voice trailed off, leaving the cruel warning hanging in the air.

"...the Family won't tolerate it. And I will never forgive you."

He said he would never forgive me.

The world went silent around me.

The line went dead before I could manage a response.

I hurried on, my head bowed, Leo a warm weight in my arms.

It was just like five years ago.

On my birthday, Vince had burst into my art studio.

The room was filled with my secrets—canvas after canvas of him.

All of them screaming a lust, a desire a ward should never, ever feel for her guardian.

I'll never forget the look in his eyes: pure rage, a total loss of control, and a flicker of raw, violent betrayal.

He shredded the canvases, and with them, my pathetic, humble love.

"What the hell are you thinking? I'm your guardian! We're not related by blood, but that doesn't change anything!"

That was the first time he had ever yelled at me.

The disgust on his face was a knife plunging straight into my heart.

The next day, he pulled me from my studies and shipped me off to Europe.

I was isolated, a prisoner in a gilded cage.

A month later, I saw the news of his marriage to Sofia Falcone.

Only then did I understand. In his grand vision of power, I was nothing more than a dangerous variable that needed to be eliminated.

"Miss Rossi, please."

A low voice yanked me from the memory.

Vince's Consigliere, Marco, was already holding the car door open for me.

I settled into the car, a sleeping Leo nestled in my lap.

Marco's gaze flickered to Leo for a second, a question in his eyes, but he kept it to himself.

The car rolled to a stop before the gates of the Moretti estate.

Five years, and nothing had changed. Except tonight, security was thicker than I'd ever seen it.

Sofia stood at the door, a perfect smile plastered on her face, playing the part of the lady of the manor.

She glided toward me, all feigned enthusiasm, but her smile froze the moment she laid eyes on Leo.

"Bella, you're back." She gave me a brief, stiff hug, her perfume thick and overpowering.

Then her eyes fell on Leo.

"A mother? Bella, when did this happen? And you never told me! After five years of being married to... to Vince, you still treat me like an outsider?" Her tone dripped with false intimacy.

I didn't answer.

She ignored Leo's whimpers of protest, prying him from my arms.

Leo was on the verge of tears, his small hands clutching tightly to my clothes.

Inside, Sofia paraded Leo around, moving between the Dons and Capos of allied families.

Her smile was perfectly measured as she introduced us.

"This is Vince's adopted daughter, Isabella, just back from Europe. See, he's so benevolent, even to outsiders."

I stood there like a trophy, a testament to Vince's "benevolence."

A wave of humiliation and rage washed over me, and I escaped to the terrace for some air.

The cold night air did little to cool the fire in my veins, but it was a start.

When I returned, I heard Sofia's voice near the ballroom entrance.

She was speaking in a conspiratorial whisper to the wives of several capos.

"Her? Just some ambitious nobody who'd do anything to climb into Vince's bed. Now that she's been with another man—and has a child to show for it—I trust she's learned her place."

Instantly, every wandering eye in the room sharpened, pinning me in place.

I was the shameless charity case, the social-climbing adopted daughter.

Leo, sensing the unease, clung tightly to my skirt.

I took a deep breath and walked back into the crowd.

Just then, the entire room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the entrance.

"Good evening, Don Moretti."

Vince strode in, flanked by his men.

He moved like a king surveying his domain.

He went straight to Sofia, his gaze softening as he tenderly adjusted her shawl.

He didn't look at me. Not even a single glance.

It was as if I were nothing more than a shadow in the corner, completely invisible to him.

"Vince," Sofia reminded him with a smile, "Bella is here too. And look, she's brought you a surprise."

Vince's gaze finally swept in my direction.

When he saw Leo standing at my side, the first crack appeared in his icy composure.

Undisguised shock.