THE DON’S BRAND

Emilia, come on… it’s just one party night. A break from your naive bookworm obsession. Nora’s voice cracked from the kitchen, loud enough to shake the walls. “ I know you love partying, but not as much as you love your books,” Victoria added, breezing into the sitting room. She stopped short when she saw Emilia_ one earbud in, eyes locked on her book, completely turned out of the world. Victoria let out a frustrated breath and waved her hand in front of Emilia’s face. “ Can I have your attention… your royal highness?” She teased. Emilia blinked slowly, tugged the earbud out, and stared up at her. “ what’s up, Vicky.” “ As I was saying,” Victoria said, hands on her hips. “ Derrick’s throwing a party tonight. We’re invited. I need you to come Along.” Emilia groaned “ Party. Again.” “ Yeah, babes. For once, be free?” Nora called from the kitchen. “ just one night. If you hate it, I swear I won’t bring it up, Again.” “ Again,” Emilia echoed, one brow up. “ Yeah… again,” Victoria grinned. “ But I’m sure you’re gonna lose.” Emilia closed her book with a soft thud. “ fine. I’m in. You know I hate anything that is not my books.” “ oh my God!” Nora squealed. “ I’m super excited,” Victoria said, already spinning in circles around the sitting room. “ Emilia! Upstairs! Now! I picked this dresses weeks ago and you are wearing it tonight whether you like it or not!” Victoria’s voice tore through the flat. As she headed upstairs. Emilia sighed, making her page with trembling fingers. The book has been her shade since afternoon. She stood. The stairs crashed under her feet with every step. Her chest get heavier. Victoria’s room smelled like. Perfumes and chaos. Clothes everywhere, but laid perfectly. On the bed was the dress. White silk. Spaghetti straps. It looks like something a princess would wear to be sacrificed. “ Try it,” Victoria ordered, already unzipping the bag. Emilia stared at it. Her mind drifted. Grades.A’S. Dean’s list. Mom’s phone calls. Dad’s silence that’s all her life has been since she turned 14. A report card. A scholarship. A name that didn’t embarrass the Harts. Not like Emily her older sister. The black sheep. The one who left at 19, dyed her hair black, and stopped answering calls from “ Hart House.” Mom still said get name like it tasted bitter. Dad didn’t say it at all. Emilia never wanted to be that, she didn’t want the slammer doors. The disappointment. The ways the walls in her father’s house has ears. Downstairs he could still hear Nora laughing. Nora Gabriel. Daughter of Gabriel Hotex Chain. Their self- proclaimed badass chef because “ I’m going to a party, I’m eating first.” She loved food,loved music, loved causing trouble. Zero filter. And Victoria, pacing in heels. Victoria Francisco. Daughter of Francisco shipping. A party baddie since freshman year. The one who dragged them both out of the library and into real life. They’d all met first year. Three girls from high-reputed families who should’ve stayed in their lanes. But somehow the bookworm, the baddie and the foodie ended up in this rented apartment together, sneaking out. Covering for each other. “ One night can’t kill me,” Emilia whispered to herself. “ One night,” Victoria echoed, mistaking it for agreement. Emilia would do what her friends wanted. Just tonight. It wasn’t like in Hart house where the cameras saw everything and staff reported everything. Tonight she could slip. Tonight she could dare. And tomorrow? Tomorrow she’d take the reprimand. The lecture. The guilt. “ I don’t know how this goes,” She thought, pulling the silk over her head. It slid cold against her skin. “ But I hope… I hope I get one night of freedom. One night to vibe. One night of here my name isn’t the good daughter.” “ EMILIA!” Victoria shrieked from the hallway mirror. “ you look like don in white. The boys won’t know what hit him.” Emilia looked at herself. She didn’t recognize the girl staring back. “ Let’s go,” She said quietly. * Don LEONARDO MORETTI POV * Darkness. That’s what his office was. Heavy velvet curtains drawn. The only light came from the amber glow of his whiskey and the tip of his cigarette. The ashtray on the mahogany desk was overflowing. Burnt out. Dead. Just like the men who crossed him. He had another cigarette. Between his fingers. He wasn’t smoking to calm down. He was smoking because if he didn’t, he’d break something. The door opened without a knock. Only one person did that. “ Boss.” Xander. Xander Moretti. Not blood. Closer enough to bear the Moretti Surname. They were 7years old when Matteo Moretti dragged them both into the basement and said, “ You either bleed together or die alone.” They’d trained side by side. Fought side by side. Killed side by side. Now Xander was his right hand. His Shadow. The only man Leonardo trusted to stand behind him and not put a knife in it. Xander dropped to one knee. Old habit. Respect. “ I heard,” Xander said, voice low. “ ‘El Diablo’” is going to Salvatore’s club tonight.” Leonardo didn’t move. The Cigarette burned closer to his fingers. “ A shipment,” Xander Continued. “ One of our brothers got greedy. Stole from Us. He’d selling out product to them. In our city. In our club.” The word brother tasted like acid. Leonardo took one last drag. Then, Slowly, deliberately, he crushed the cigarette in the tray. The sound was soft. But in the quiet room it cracked like a neck. Ash dusted his black suit sleeve. The Moretti Signet ring on his middle finger caught the light. He stood. 6’3. Broad shoulders. A suit that cost most than most cars. Dark hair. Cut sharp. Jawline that looked carved. His eyes were that made grown men confess to things. They hadn’t done yet. This was Don Leonardo Moretti. 31. Chicago’s ghost. The man they whispered about in black rooms. Matteo’s son. And Matteo had been a monster. Leonardo was worse, because he was a patient. “ Get the car,” Leonardo said. His voice was quiet. That was the dangerous part. When he yelled, people lived. When he whispered, they didn’t. Xander rose. “ Salvatore’s? Tonight? Boss, it’s a party. Hundreds of civillians__” “ I guess we’re crashing a party tonight,” Leonardo cut him off. He adjusted his cuff links. White. Crisp. Someone had stolen from Moretti family. And tonight, in a room full of music and dancing innocent girl in white dresses… He was going to remind Chicago who owned it. Xander opened the door. “ Yes, Don.” The door shut. Leonardo took his glass, finished the whiskey in one pull, and walked out into the dark hallway. Toward the club. Toward her. He didn’t know it yet. But the girl in the white dress was about to ruin him.