The Letter
910 Words
Serena POV
The drive from the chapel to the Moretti estate passed in complete silence.
Rain had started falling sometime after we left, streaking the windows of the black SUV and turning the city into a blur of lights and shadows. I sat rigidly in the back seat, staring out the window without really seeing anything. My wedding dress was still stained with my father's blood. No one had offered to replace it, and I hadn't asked.
Part of me didn't want to.
The blood was proof that today had happened.
Proof that I wasn't trapped in some horrible nightmare.
Across from me, Damien sat with the same unreadable expression he'd worn all day. Several times I caught him glancing toward me before looking away again.
I hated him for that.
I hated how calm he seemed.
I hated that he kept acting like he knew things he wasn't telling me.
Most of all, I hated that he was the only person I had left.
The realization made me sick.
When the vehicle finally rolled through the gates of the Moretti estate, I felt another wave of exhaustion wash over me. The mansion rose from the darkness like something out of an old movie, all stone walls and towering windows. Security guards lined the entrance, their faces grim as they watched us arrive.
Nobody spoke as we entered.
A maid appeared immediately, offering condolences in a quiet voice before leading us toward the main staircase. I barely heard her. My mind was elsewhere.
On the envelope hidden inside my dress.
The moment we reached the second floor, I stopped walking.
The maid turned.
"Mrs. Moretti?"
The title made my stomach twist.
"I need a room."
"Of course."
She led me down a long hallway before stopping outside a large bedroom.
The room was beautiful.
It didn't matter.
"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.
"No."
"Tea?"
"No."
She hesitated before nodding and leaving.
The second the door closed behind her, I locked it.
Then I stood there listening.
Silence.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Nothing.
My hands trembled as I reached inside my dress and pulled out the envelope.
For several seconds, I simply stared at it.
The handwriting belonged to my father.
There was no doubt about that.
I traced my fingers across my name before finally breaking the seal.
Inside was a single folded letter.
My heart pounded as I unfolded it.
Serena,
If you are reading this, then everything has gone wrong.
The words immediately made my stomach drop.
I continued reading.
I pray I am alive when you find this letter. If I am not, listen carefully. There are people around you who are lying. People you trust. People who have spent years waiting for this moment.
Do not trust anyone.
Not my men.
Not our allies.
Not even Damien.
Especially not Damien.
My breath caught.
I read the line again.
Especially not Damien.
A chill spread through my body.
The rest of the letter continued.
There are things about your life that I should have told you years ago. I thought I had more time. I was wrong.
You are not who you think you are.
The paper nearly slipped from my fingers.
What did that mean?
Confusion swirled through my mind as I forced myself to keep reading.
There is a key hidden inside your mother's jewelry box. Find it before anyone else does. It opens a safe deposit box in Geneva. Everything you need to understand the truth is inside.
Do not tell anyone what you've found.
Trust no one.
And Serena...
I'm sorry.
I have always loved you.
Dad.
The letter ended there.
I stared at the page in stunned silence.
My heart hammered painfully against my ribs.
You are not who you think you are.
The words echoed through my head.
What was that supposed to mean?
Was he talking about the mafia?
About our family?
Or something else entirely?
A knock sounded at the door.
I nearly jumped.
Instinctively, I shoved the letter beneath a pillow.
Another knock followed.
"Serena."
Damien.
My pulse quickened.
"What?"
"We need to talk."
The last person I wanted to talk to was Damien Moretti.
Especially after what I'd just read.
Especially after my father had specifically warned me not to trust him.
I walked to the door but didn't open it.
"What do you want?"
There was a pause.
Then, "Your father left something behind."
My grip tightened on the handle.
"What?"
"A message."
Every nerve in my body went on alert.
A message?
Was he talking about the letter?
Had someone seen me take it?
Had Damien known about it all along?
The silence stretched between us.
Finally, I unlocked the door.
Damien stood outside looking exactly as he always did—composed, controlled, impossible to read.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he held out a small silver object.
A key.
My breath stopped.
A tiny engraving was carved into the metal.
The letter R.
Rossi.
The exact key my father had mentioned.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to Damien.
"Where did you get that?"
His expression darkened.
"It was delivered to me an hour ago."
Something cold settled in my stomach.
Because according to the letter, nobody was supposed to know about the key.
Nobody.
Yet somehow Damien was holding it in his hand.
And suddenly, my father's warning didn't seem paranoid at all.
It seemed terrifyingly real.
- Writer
