YOU ARE MINE

THE DEVIL’S VOW CHAPTER 1 THE MORETTI HEIR Rain had been falling over New York for three hours. It turned the streets into mirrors, reflecting the golden lights of skyscrapers and the cold white glow of passing cars. Thunder rolled somewhere beyond the city, but inside the Moretti mansion, everything was silent. Too silent. The mansion stood on a hill overlooking the city, surrounded by iron gates, cameras, armed guards, and enough security to make even the police think twice before entering. For more than thirty years, the Moretti family had ruled a hidden kingdom beneath New York. They owned restaurants, construction companies, nightclubs, shipping businesses, and luxury hotels. But those were only the legal businesses. Behind the polished doors and expensive offices was an empire built on fear, loyalty, blood, and secrets. Tonight, that empire had a new king. Adrian Moretti stood alone inside his father's study. He was dressed in a black suit, his white shirt open at the collar. His dark hair was slightly wet from the rain, and his expression was impossible to read. On the desk in front of him was a single photograph. His father. Alessandro Moretti. The photograph had been taken twenty years earlier. Alessandro was standing outside the Moretti family's first restaurant, one hand resting on the shoulder of a young Adrian. Back then, Adrian had been nine years old. His father had been smiling. Adrian had never forgotten that smile. He had also never forgotten the day it disappeared. Three nights ago, Alessandro Moretti had died. The official report said heart failure. Everyone in the Moretti organization knew better. Someone had killed him. And Adrian intended to find out who. The study door opened. Adrian didn't turn around. "You're late." A deep voice answered. "I was handling the men at the docks." Adrian finally looked over his shoulder. Luca Romano stood in the doorway. He was thirty-one, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a scar running from his left eyebrow to his cheek. Luca had been Adrian's closest friend since childhood. He was also the only man Adrian trusted completely. "How many?" Adrian asked. "Seven." "How many survived?" "Two." Adrian nodded. "Where are they?" "Basement." Adrian turned back toward the photograph. "Did they talk?" "Not yet." "Make them talk." Luca studied him for a moment. "You sound like your father." Adrian's jaw tightened. "I am not my father." "No," Luca said quietly. "You're worse." Adrian glanced at him. Luca gave a small smile. "That was a compliment." Adrian ignored him. He picked up the photograph. "What happened at the docks?" "Three trucks were hit." "By who?" "Rossi men." The room became colder. Adrian slowly lowered the photograph. "Are you certain?" "The men we captured had Rossi tattoos." "That doesn't mean Victor Rossi ordered it." Luca crossed his arms. "Then who did?" Adrian walked toward the large window. From the top floor of the mansion, he could see almost half the city. Millions of people were sleeping, working, celebrating, fighting, falling in love. None of them knew that two of New York's most powerful criminal families were standing on the edge of war. The Morettis and the Rossis had been enemies for generations. Their fathers had fought. Their grandfathers had fought. And now the responsibility had fallen onto Adrian's shoulders. "Victor wouldn't attack the docks," Adrian said. "Why not?" "Because he's too smart." Luca frowned. "That's exactly why I don't like this." Adrian nodded. "Neither do I." A knock came at the door. Neither man answered. The door opened anyway. Matteo Moretti entered. He was Alessandro's younger brother. Adrian's uncle. At fifty-eight, Matteo still looked powerful. His silver hair was carefully combed back, and his expensive gray suit looked untouched by the rain. He carried himself like a man who believed the world belonged to him. Adrian had never trusted him. Not completely. Matteo closed the door. "Adrian." "Uncle." "May I speak with you?" "You already are." Matteo looked at Luca. "Alone." Luca glanced at Adrian. Adrian nodded. Luca left the room. The door closed. Matteo walked toward the desk. "Your father would have wanted you to listen to me." Adrian's eyes hardened. "My father is dead." "Exactly." Matteo sat down. "The family needs stability." "The family has stability." "You are twenty-nine." "I know my age." "You've never run an organization this large." Adrian stepped closer. "And yet, somehow, everyone is still alive." Matteo smiled. "You've inherited your father's temper." "I inherited his empire." "Not all of it." Adrian stopped. "What does that mean?" Matteo leaned back. "Some of your father's agreements were never transferred." "Which agreements?" "The Rossi agreement." Adrian stared at him. The Rossi agreement was one of the oldest arrangements between the two families. For years, the Morettis controlled the northern side of the city's criminal network while the Rossis controlled the southern side. Neither family crossed the invisible border. It had prevented a war for almost fifteen years. "What happened?" Adrian asked. "Victor wants to renegotiate." "Why?" "Because he believes you're weak." Adrian laughed once. It wasn't a happy sound. "Then Victor Rossi is about to learn something." Matteo stood. "What?" "That I'm not my father." Matteo watched him carefully. "And what exactly does that mean?" Adrian walked toward the window. "It means I don't negotiate from fear." A silence filled the room. Then Matteo said something that changed the conversation completely. "There is another problem." Adrian turned. "What?" "Victor has a daughter." Adrian's expression remained neutral. "I know." "Her name is Elena." "I know who she is." Matteo's smile returned. "Then you know she's important." Adrian didn't answer. Elena Rossi. He had seen her before. Not personally. Photographs. Newspaper articles. Charity events. Social media. She was twenty-five. Beautiful, intelligent, educated. Unlike her father, she stayed away from the criminal side of the Rossi organization. At least publicly. "Why are you talking about her?" Adrian asked. Matteo moved closer. "Because Victor has one weakness." "His daughter." "Exactly." Adrian's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?" Matteo didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward the door. "You'll understand tomorrow." "Uncle." Matteo stopped. Adrian's voice became colder. "Don't make decisions for me." Matteo looked back. "I'm not." He smiled. "Not yet." Then he left. Adrian stood alone again. He looked at his father's photograph. For the first time in years, he felt something close to uncertainty. His phone rang. Luca. Adrian answered. "Talk." "We have a situation." "What kind?" "One of the guards from the docks woke up." "And?" "He says the attackers weren't Rossi men." Adrian's expression changed. "Who were they?" "We don't know." "Get him into the study." "Already done." Adrian ended the call. Five minutes later, two guards brought a wounded man into the room. The man was barely conscious. Adrian stood in front of him. "Who sent you?" The man breathed heavily. "I don't know." Adrian looked at Luca. Luca stepped forward. "You attacked a Moretti warehouse. People died. You know who sent you." The man shook his head. "It wasn't Rossi." Adrian crouched beside him. "Then who?" The man looked at him. Fear filled his eyes. "The Black Crown." Adrian froze. Luca's expression changed instantly. The Black Crown was not a normal criminal organization. It was a name whispered in the darkest corners of the city. An organization believed to control criminals, politicians, corrupt businessmen, and assassins across several countries. For years, everyone had assumed it was nothing more than an urban legend. Adrian had never believed that. "What did you say?" he asked. "The Black Crown." The man's eyes closed. "They want the Moretti empire." Adrian stood slowly. "Who is their leader?" The man opened his eyes one last time. "Someone close to you." Then he died. Silence. Luca looked at Adrian. "Someone close to you." Adrian stared at the dead man. His mind immediately went through every name. Every soldier. Every advisor. Every relative. Every friend. Every person who knew the Moretti family's secrets. One name appeared. Matteo. But Adrian pushed it away. His uncle had flaws. He was ambitious. He was arrogant. But betrayal? No. At least, Adrian wasn't ready to believe it. He walked back to his father's desk. Outside, lightning illuminated the city. Tomorrow, he would meet Victor Rossi. Tomorrow, he would learn why the Rossi family had suddenly become dangerous. And tomorrow, Adrian Moretti would meet the woman who would change everything. Elena Rossi. The daughter of his enemy. The woman who would one day become his greatest weakness. And his greatest strength. Adrian looked once more at his father's photograph. "I'll find them," he whispered. "Whoever killed you." Thunder shook the mansion. Adrian's eyes hardened. "And when I do, they'll learn what the Moretti name really means." He turned off the light. The study disappeared into darkness. But somewhere across the city, another man was watching the same storm. Matteo Moretti stood inside a dark room, holding a phone against his ear. A voice spoke from the other side. "Is Adrian suspicious?" Matteo looked toward the rain-covered window. "Not yet." "And Elena?" Matteo smiled. "Tomorrow, the two of them will meet." The voice became quieter. "Good." Matteo ended the call. He placed the phone on the table. Then he looked at an old photograph. A photograph of Alessandro Moretti. He smiled. "Your son will finish what you started." Outside, lightning flashed across the sky. And the war began.