THE LAST HEIRESS OF THE MAFIA EMPIRE

Chapter 8: The Hunt Begins

The morning sun cast a warm golden glow over Milan as sleek luxury cars and impatient commuters filled the streets, but inside the black Maserati gliding effortlessly through traffic, there was an unusual silence that neither man seemed eager to disturb. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound for several moments, while Massimo Moretti kept his attention fixed on the road ahead. Outwardly, he looked exactly as he always did—calm, composed, and completely in control—but anyone who knew him well enough would have noticed the subtle change in his expression.

His thoughts were no longer consumed by meetings, rival families, or the responsibility of leading the Moretti Syndicate.

They had been completely claimed by one woman.

Alessia Bellini.

The memory of her laughter drifted through his mind with effortless clarity, followed by the image of the shy smile she had tried so hard to hide after their kiss. It was a smile that had lingered with him long after he had walked away from her hotel suite, and much to his own surprise, he found himself smiling again.

It was small.

Almost imperceptible.

Yet it was enough.

Luca noticed.

Seated comfortably in the passenger seat, he turned his head ever so slightly, studying his boss with an expression that shifted from curiosity to outright amusement. Over the last twelve years, he had watched Massimo negotiate impossible alliances, dismantle rival organizations, and make decisions that would terrify even the most seasoned mafia leaders. The man sitting beside him had earned the respect of friends and the fear of enemies because he never allowed emotions to influence his judgment.

Today, however, was different.

Very different.

Unable to resist any longer, Luca folded his arms across his chest before letting out a quiet chuckle.

"You know," he began casually, his lips curling into an amused smile, "if someone had told me yesterday that I'd spend this morning watching the great Massimo Moretti drive across Milan because he forgot to ask a woman for her phone number, I would've laughed in their face."

Massimo didn't answer immediately.

Instead, the smile on his lips deepened ever so slightly as he kept his eyes on the road, shaking his head with quiet resignation before finally glancing sideways at his friend.

"You're becoming far too comfortable."

There was no irritation in his voice.

If anything, it carried the faintest trace of amusement.

Luca caught it immediately.

His grin widened.

"No," he corrected with a playful shrug. "I'm simply taking advantage of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Do you have any idea how rare this is?"

Massimo raised an eyebrow.

"How rare what is?"

"You."

The answer came so quickly that Massimo couldn't help letting out a quiet laugh.

Luca leaned back against his seat, thoroughly enjoying himself now that he had his boss's attention.

"I've watched grown men tremble because you looked at them for five seconds too long. I've seen ministers wait outside your office for hours just hoping you'd grant them a meeting. Rival families mention your name like they're talking about death itself." He paused dramatically before looking at Massimo again, his smile softening into something more genuine. "Yet somehow, one woman managed to do what none of them ever could."

Massimo's fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

"And what exactly did she do?"

"She made you forget yourself."

The words settled between them.

For the first time since the conversation began, Massimo didn't have a clever response waiting.

Instead, he let out a slow breath as his eyes remained fixed on the road stretching before them.

"I intended to ask for her number," he admitted quietly, almost as though he were confessing something to himself rather than to Luca. "I kept telling myself I'd ask before we said goodbye."

Luca tilted his head, listening carefully.

"But when the moment came..."

Massimo's voice trailed off as another memory surfaced in his mind. He could still picture Alessia standing outside her suite, looking up at him with those warm hazel eyes that somehow carried both innocence and quiet confidence.

"I looked at her," he finished softly, a faint smile returning to his lips, "and everything else stopped mattering."

For several seconds, Luca simply stared at him.

Then, unable to hold it in any longer, he burst into laughter.

Not the mocking kind.

The laughter of a man witnessing something he had never expected to see.

When he finally managed to compose himself, he wiped the corner of one eye before shaking his head in disbelief.

"If the captains heard you say that," he said between lingering chuckles, "they'd swear someone had kidnapped the real Massimo Moretti and replaced him with his long-lost twin."

Even Massimo laughed.

It wasn't loud, but it was genuine enough to make Luca smile.

Moments like these reminded him that beneath the ruthless reputation feared across Italy was still the man whose loyalty he had chosen over a decade ago.

The laughter gradually faded, leaving behind a comfortable silence.

It lasted only a few seconds.

Then the encrypted phone resting in the center console began to vibrate.

The sound was subtle.

Yet it changed everything.

Massimo's smile disappeared almost instantly, replaced by the cold, unreadable expression that had become synonymous with his name. Luca noticed the transformation without saying a word. Years of experience had taught him that calls through the encrypted line never brought ordinary news.

Massimo picked up the phone and answered without hesitation.

"Matteo."

"Boss."

The voice on the other end remained calm, but there was an unmistakable urgency beneath it.

"We've intercepted a transmission from our source inside the Romano organization."

Massimo's grip around the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly.

"I'm listening."

"Our source confirms that the Romanos are no longer searching blindly. They have credible intelligence that the last surviving De Luca heir is alive."

For a brief moment, neither Massimo nor Luca spoke.

The atmosphere inside the car changed completely.

The warmth that had filled the conversation only moments earlier vanished beneath a tension so heavy it almost felt tangible.

Massimo's expression remained composed, but Luca noticed the subtle tightening of his jaw.

"How much do they know?" Massimo asked, his voice so calm that anyone unfamiliar with him would have mistaken it for indifference.

"Enough to mobilize an extraction team."

Luca slowly turned to face him, the amusement on his face disappearing completely.

"They know she's in Milan," Matteo continued. "We're still trying to determine how the information reached them, but our source believes they've already deployed one of their tactical units."

Massimo's heartbeat slowed instead of quickening.

That was how he had survived every war he'd ever fought.

When others panicked...

He became calmer.

"Where are they heading?"

There was a brief pause before Matteo answered.

"The Grand Milano Hotel."

For the first time that morning...

Massimo lost his composure.

His eyes narrowed sharply as every pleasant thought of Alessia disappeared, replaced by the instincts of the man who ruled one of Italy's most powerful criminal empires. Beside him, Luca felt his stomach tighten as he watched Massimo's expression harden into something he hadn't seen in months.

Without saying another word, Massimo pressed his foot firmly against the accelerator.

The Maserati surged through traffic like a predator released from its cage.

Luca grabbed the handle above the door as the car shot past slower vehicles, but he never once complained. Instead, he looked at Massimo with growing concern before speaking quietly.

"Boss..."

Massimo kept his eyes on the road.

"If they're already moving..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't have to.

Both men knew exactly who the Romanos were coming for.

Alessia.