Bound By A Forgotten Vow

….. Author's Pov….. The vibration of a phone shattered the silence in Mr. Matteo Moretti’s study. He barely even spared it a glance. Mateo dismissed the vibration without a second thought. It was probably another congratulatory message for Alina’s wedding. He barely acknowledged the vibration. Congratulations had poured into his phone all morning, each one celebrating tomorrow's wedding, so he paid no attention to it. After some while, his phone vibrated again. This time, he glanced at the screen. Immediately, the smile on his face disappeared. His hand froze. He took his phone with shaky hands and reread the message again. Blood slowly drained from his face. This time, Mr. Mateo was already sweating badly. His phone nearly slipped from his hand. The words on the screen read: “Tomorrow, prepare one Daughter.” “No”..., Mr. Mateo said almost in a whisper. Twenty-one years of silence had finally come to an end. Immediately, he rushed to the side drawer, his trembling fingers fumbling with the drawer key. He opened it. Inside lay a medium-sized framed photograph. Seeing it, more tears dropped from his eyes. His thumb brushed across the smiling woman's face. “Beatrice….” he whispered, his voice was shattered, breaking for the first time in years. “I…I failed you, Beatrice.” ……. Elara’s Morning Morning came sooner than anyone in the Moretti household would have liked. Servants hurried through the hallways, their arms were filled with fresh flower arrangements, carefully packed wedding gowns, and silver trays laden with breakfast. Every corner of the mansion were filled with excitement as preparation carried on at full speed. Today wasn't just another day. It was Alina Moretti’s wedding. The eldest daughter of Moretti Family. And, quietly overshadowed by the grand celebration, it was Elara Moretti’s twenty-first birthday, the last daughter of Moretti family. Unlike the rest of the household, Elara remained asleep. She was completely unaware of the storm that was quietly making its way toward her family. A soft ray of morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, brushing gently across Elara’s face. She stretched lazily before a bright smile found its way on her lips. Today was her 21st birthday. Instinctively, her eyes drifted towards the bedroom door. She waited for about 5–10 seconds, but both happened. A small frown creased her forehead before she let out an amused laugh. For as long as she could remember, Alina had made it her life’s mission to be the very first person to wish her a happy birthday. Even before her day begins, she would usually barge into her room at an ungodly hour, singing terribly off-key while carrying a slice of cake she had somehow convinced the kitchen staff to hand over before breakfast. But this morning was different. Elara shook her head with a grin. “She must finally be taking this whole bride thing seriously,” she mumbled to herself. “Let's go tease the future Mrs..” she said with a huge smile on her face. Elara, still dressed in her oversized satin pajamas, slipped into her fluffy white house slippers and hurried out of her room. The smile on her face grew wider as she made her way to Alina’s room. Knock knock. “Bride Zilla? Are you awake?” Elara knocked, but she didn't get an answer. Then she smiled. “Fine…I'm coming in anyways.” She pushed the door open, her grin widening. “I'm angry wi..” Her smile flattened when she couldn't find her sister in her room. “Alina?” Her gaze swept across the room, but couldn't find her sister. She blinked once, letting out a soft laugh. “Don't tell me you're in the kitchen trying to impress your future in-laws already,” Elata laughed, shaking her head. “You and I both know you can't cook to save your life, Alina Moretti. Please don't poison those people before they officially become your family.” Elara rolled her eyes playfully, still smiling to herself. After a while, she left the room and headed downstairs, convinced she'd find her sister around somewhere, maybe with the event planners, or probably in the kitchen. As Elara made her way down the grand staircase, she was met with the familiar chaos of a house preparing for a wedding. Servants moved through the halls with trays balanced in their hand, and garment towels draped over their shoulders. Despite all this chaos, her eyes searched for her sister. “Happy b-..” “Ah…no, please don't wish me yet,” she said, offering an apologetic smile, politely stopping Anna, Alina’s makeup artist. Anna blinked in confusion. “Well actually…, Alina hasn't wished me yet so…” Elara said, glancing around the hall again, hoping to find her. “Have you seen her anywhere?” “I thought she was with you,” Anna replied, confused. “Me?...no, she wasn't…. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen her since sunrise,” Elara gave her a small shrug. “I actually thought she'd be with the event planners…or probably in the kitchen trying to impress her future in-laws.” A gentle smile appeared on Anna's face before slowly disappearing. “No ma'am, we haven't seen Miss Alina all morning,” Anna replied. “That's strange,” Elara mumbled. “She's probably trying to pull out legs again. That's sounds exactly like Alina.” Moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps made her glance towards the staircase. “Good morning everyone,” Mr. Matteo Moretti greeted while descending the grand staircase. “Good morning, Dad,” Elara smiled, hurrying towards him. A faint smile found its way onto Mateo's face despite the storm raging inside him. “Happy birth-” “No no..Dad, don't wish me yet.” Elara laughed, closing his mouth. Mateo looked at her, puzzled. “Alina is yet to wish me, she always does,” she folded her hands, pretending to be offended. “But I've looked everywhere for her, but can't find her.” For a second, Mateo's heart skipped. “I'm sure she's around here somewhere,” he said. Elara nodded. “Yes, Dad. I'm sure she is, she's probably hiding just to annoy me again. I will go look upstairs again, I'm sure I will find her this time; that woman isn't escaping my birthday hug.” Without waiting for any reply, she hurried upstairs as Mateo watched her go upstairs. His smile vanished. Few minutes later, the grand entrance door swung open. The atmosphere changed. The laughter and conversations that had filled the Moretti hall faded away as heads turned toward the entrance. Just then, a group of men in black tailored suits walked in. Their footsteps echoed softly against the marble floor. These men carried themselves with quiet confidence, their expressions were unreadable, leaving the people exchanging nervous glances at each other. Then he walked in, not just any man. LORENZO DE LUCA. The man whose name was enough to silence a room. Lorenzo walked in without the slightest hint of urgency. His expression was unreadable. Each step he took was calm and deliberate. There was something uncertain about the way he carries himself. No one questioned his entrance. He moved as though the Moretti mansion belonged to him. Without saying a word to anybody, he lowered himself into the nearest armchair. He crossed one leg over the other effortlessly, his gloved hand was resting lightly on the armrest, as though he had every right to be there. For a brief moment, Mr. Mateo Moretti forgot how to breathe. Without a second thought of what next would happen, he stepped forward and fell to his knees. Just then, the guests began to murmur among themselves, exchanging uneasy glances. “P.. please,” Mr. Mateo's voice cracked. “My eldest daughter is missing, no one knows where she is.” Lorenzo regarded him in silence, his gaze cold and detached as though the desperate man kneeling before him meant nothing at all. Lorenzo's eyes looked through Mateo, never truly on him. “P.. please,” Mateo begged again. “Give me little more time… I.. I will figure something out.” Silence settled over the hall. Lorenzo didn't answer immediately. He let it linger before he finally spoke. His voice was calm, quiet and cold. “Do you think I care?” Mateo lowered his head as he spoke. “My daughter is gone …. she's nowher–” “And?” Lorenzo cut him off, his voice calm, almost bored. “Please…. she's all I have.” That didn't even make Lorenzo's expression change. “The agreement required a daughter,” Lorenzo spoke, letting each word settle. “It never required a specific one.” At that very moment – “Dad.” Elara’s voice echoed from the staircase. Every head turned towards her. People watched as she hurried down the stairs. “I didn't find Alina. I've checked the guest rooms, the balcony and even the –” Her words died as her eyes landed on her father. Her smile disappeared. “Dad..?” She hurried towards him. “What are you doing?” Her eyes widened as her hands found his face. “Why are you kneeling?” Mateo didn't answer. Instead, he threw his face away so she wouldn't see his tears. Lorenzo slowly turned. For the first time since he entered the mansion, his attention was completely settled on Elara. He studied her quietly, his gaze remained on her, quiet and unreadable, longer than anyone expected. Then – “I believe I've found my bride.”