The Morano mansion had never felt this silent.
Its corridors usually breathed with the footsteps of guards, the low hum of generators, the murmured orders of men trained to kill for the family.
But tonight, silence wrapped around the walls like a shroud unnatural, heavy, too still for a house that belonged to the most feared bloodline on the western coast.
Alessia felt it long before the pain started.
She stood at the balcony of the east wing, fingers gripping the railing, her breath fogging the night air as she watched the taillights of Luca, Donato, and Romeo's Cars fade beyond the wrought-iron gates.
They left in a rush—too fast, too tense—answering a call that smelled of danger.
The mission to Averia City was supposed to be quick, surgical.
Recover their son and his stolen heart, take back what belonged to Morano blood, and return before dawn.
But the moment the gates clanged shut, something inside Alessia twisted.
Something cold....Something warning.
