Chapter 4 - The Predator’s SisterIsabella Moretti stopped dead in her tracks five feet inside the doorway, her dark eyes sweeping over the luxurious suite, lingering for a fraction of a second on Elena before dropping entirely onto the little girl sitting quietly on the rug with her wooden puzzle.
"So," Isabella said, her voice dripping with a chilly, aristocratic sarcasm that could cut glass. "The rumors sweeping through the lower staff are actually true. My ruthless, untouchable brother has turned his private east wing into a nursery for a stray maid and her bastard child."
Elena’s blood ran cold. She stepped instinctively in front of Mia, shielding the child from Isabella’s predatory gaze.
Lorenzo didn't flinch. He didn't raise his voice. He simply turned his head slowly toward his sister, his eyes turning into chips of arctic ice. "Watch your tongue, Isabella. You are speaking about my daughter."
Isabella let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, crossing her arms over her tailored blazer. "Your daughter? Lorenzo, have you lost your absolute mind? Some random girl from the agency walks in here claiming the child is yours, and you roll out the red carpet? For all we know, she’s a plant. A sleeper agent planted by the Rossi family to get close to the inner circle!"
"The Rossi family is currently rotting in federal prison or six feet under," Lorenzo replied smoothly, though the danger in his tone made the temperature in the room plummet. "And Elena was my personal assistant before she disappeared three years ago. I know every curve of her face, every detail of her history. This child carries my blood. One look at her eyes confirms what DNA testing will prove by tomorrow morning."
Isabella stepped closer, her sharp gaze piercing right through Elena’s defenses. "And where has she been for three years, little miss nobody? Faking her own death, hiding out while you were locked up, and now crawling back the second she realizes you've reclaimed your throne? She’s an opportunist, Lorenzo. She smells money and power."
"That is enough," Lorenzo commanded, his voice cracking like a whip. He stepped between his sister and Elena, his massive frame blocking Isabella’s line of sight entirely. "You will show respect to the mother of my child under my roof, Isabella, or you won't be staying under it much longer. Is that clear?"
Isabella’s jaw tightened, a flash of genuine anger crossing her flawless face. She had spent a decade helping Lorenzo build the Moretti empire, managing the offshore accounts and bleeding rivals dry in the boardroom. She was used to being his second-in-command, not pushed aside for a former maid and a toddler.
"You're making a massive mistake, little brother," Isabella hissed softly, leaning in close so only he could hear. "A king with a weakness is a king who gets assassinated. If the other capos find out you have an heir—a soft, vulnerable little girl—they won't see a blessing. They'll see a target."
With a swirl of her expensive silk scarf, Isabella turned on her heel and marched out of the suite, slamming the heavy oak door behind her with a resounding crash that made Mia jump and whimper softly.
Elena stood frozen, the blood roaring in her ears. Isabella’s words echoed in her mind, confirming every single fear she had carried across state lines for three agonizing years.
They'll see a target.
"She's wrong," Lorenzo said quietly, turning back to face Elena. His expression had softened again, though the hardened edge of a mafia boss was never far beneath the surface. He reached out, his hand hovering uncertainly before gently resting on Elena’s shoulder. "No one touches her, Elena. Not Isabella, not the remaining capos, not God himself. She is safe here."
"You can't guarantee that, Lorenzo," Elena whispered, her voice trembling as she looked up into his eyes. "Your world is built on violence and betrayal. I didn't spend three years running just to watch my daughter become a pawn in a family war."
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Lorenzo didn't argue. He didn't make empty promises. Instead, his grip on her shoulder tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor her.
"Then help me build a different world," he said softly.
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