Chapter 9: The first Move
1374 Words
Completely unaware that two of Italy's most powerful mafia families were converging on the same location, Alessia Bellini stood at the reception desk with a warm smile as the receptionist handed back her passport alongside the receipt for her stay.
"It was a pleasure having you with us, Miss Bellini," the young receptionist said warmly, returning her smile. "We hope to welcome you again the next time you're in Milan."
"Thank you," Alessia replied sincerely as she accepted the documents. Slipping them neatly into her handbag, she glanced around the elegant lobby one last time before letting out a quiet sigh. "Although I have a feeling this trip will be difficult to forget."
The receptionist laughed softly, assuming she was referring to the city's beauty.
"I hear that quite often."
Alessia smiled but offered no explanation.
It wasn't Milan, she would remember.
It was a man.
As she wrapped her fingers around the handle of her suitcase and made her way toward the revolving doors, Sofia's teasing voice echoed vividly in her mind.
*"Only you could spend an entire evening with a man who leaves you blushing like a teenager... and still forget to ask for his phone number."*
A quiet laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, earning her a curious glance from an elderly couple walking past. Embarrassed, she lowered her head with an apologetic smile and stepped outside, where the bright morning sunlight immediately bathed the pavement in gold.
The city bustled with its usual energy. Taxis rolled steadily along the avenue, cyclists weaved effortlessly between cars, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted from a café across the street. It was the kind of peaceful morning that made danger seem impossible.
Across that same street, however, a black SUV remained parked beneath the shade of towering cypress trees.
Inside, the atmosphere couldn't have been more different.
Dante Romano lowered the photograph he had been studying and looked through the windshield with cold, calculating eyes. The woman leaving the hotel looked nothing like the frightened child in the decades-old picture resting in his hands, yet the resemblance was undeniable. The same hazel eyes. The same delicate features. Even the small birthmark near her left wrist matched the information they had paid dearly to obtain.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.
"So," he murmured, closing the file with deliberate care, "the ghost of the De Luca family has finally stepped into the light."
One of the men seated behind him leaned forward.
"Are you certain it's her?"
Dante looked at him as though the question itself had been unnecessary.
"I don't gamble on uncertainty," he replied calmly. "By the time I make a move, the game is already won."
The confidence in his voice silenced everyone inside the vehicle.
He adjusted the cuff of his tailored suit before opening the door and stepping onto the pavement with the relaxed confidence of a man taking an ordinary morning stroll rather than preparing to abduct the most valuable woman in Italy.
As he crossed the street, his eyes never left Alessia.
She had no idea who he was.
She had no idea why he was smiling.
Most importantly...
She had no idea that from the moment she walked out of that hotel, she had become the prize in a war that had been waiting twenty-four years to begin.
As Dante crossed the street with measured, unhurried steps, another black SUV rolled silently into position a short distance away. To the ordinary passerby, nothing about the scene appeared unusual. The men looked like businessmen beginning another day in Milan. No one noticed the tiny communication devices hidden beneath their collars, nor the way their eyes constantly swept across the street, silently identifying exits, blind spots, and anyone who might interfere.
Dante stopped a few metres away from Alessia, allowing his gaze to settle on her for a brief moment before a courteous smile spread across his face. He had expected to find a frightened young woman constantly looking over her shoulder after learning of her heritage. Instead, she looked completely at ease, her attention fixed on the taxi approaching from the opposite side of the road.
For the first time that morning, something resembling admiration flickered across his face.
"So this is the last De Luca," he murmured under his breath, almost to himself. "No wonder everyone wants to find you."
One of his men stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"Should we take her now?"
Dante shook his head, his expression never changing.
"No. A frightened target attracts attention." His eyes remained fixed on Alessia as though he were studying a rare piece of art. "We do this politely. By the time she realizes something is wrong, she'll already be inside the vehicle."
The operative nodded immediately before stepping back.
Meanwhile, several streets away, Massimo tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the Maserati surged through traffic. His expression remained unreadable, but Luca could sense the tension radiating from him. He had worked beside Massimo for years and knew exactly what that silence meant. The calmer his boss appeared, the more dangerous he became.
The encrypted phone vibrated again.
Massimo answered immediately.
"Talk to me."
It was Enzo.
His usually composed voice carried an urgency that made Luca instinctively straighten in his seat.
"My team is in position, Boss," Enzo reported. "We've identified six Romano operatives around the hotel."
Massimo's eyes narrowed.
"Only six?"
"Visible six," Enzo corrected. "There could be more inside the vehicles."
Massimo gave a slow nod, already considering possibilities.
"And Dante Romano?"
"We've just confirmed he's here."
That piece of information changed everything.
For the first time since Matteo's call, Massimo's expression shifted ever so slightly. It wasn't fear.
It was recognition.
Luca noticed it immediately.
"Dante himself came?" he asked, unable to hide his surprise.
Massimo's jaw tightened as he kept his attention on the road.
"Then this isn't merely an abduction."
Luca looked at him questioningly.
Massimo finally met his gaze for the briefest moment before returning his eyes to the traffic ahead.
"It's a declaration."
Silence settled inside the car.
Both men understood the weight of those words.
The Romano family hadn't sent ordinary soldiers.
They had sent the nephew of their Don.
That meant they expected resistance.
They expected blood.
And they expected to leave Milan with Alessia Bellini.
Massimo's phone buzzed once more.
This time, it was Matteo.
"Boss," he said quickly, "we've traced the leak."
Massimo's expression hardened.
"Who sold the information?"
"Our source believes someone inside the Bellini archives accepted payment, but we're still confirming the identity."
Massimo remained silent for several seconds, allowing the information to settle before speaking again.
"Keep digging. I want names, bank transfers, meetings—everything. I don't care how insignificant it seems. If someone sold Alessia's location, I want to know who, when, and why."
"You'll have it."
"And Matteo..."
"Yes, Boss?"
Massimo's voice became dangerously calm.
"If today's operation fails, the Romanos will disappear underground. Make sure they don't."
Matteo understood exactly what that meant.
"We'll be ready."
The call ended.
Luca slowly released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding before looking sideways at Massimo.
"You've already accepted that today won't end here."
Massimo's gaze remained fixed on the road, stretching ahead.
"It never could."
There was no arrogance in his voice.
Only certainty.
"Whether they succeed or fail, the Romanos crossed a line the moment they came for her. After today..." He paused briefly, his expression growing colder than Luca had seen in a long time. "...there's no returning to the peace our families have pretended to keep."
Outside the windshield, the familiar façade of the Grand Milano Hotel finally came into view.
Massimo slowed the car just enough to take in the scene, unfolding ahead.
His sharp eyes immediately found Alessia standing near the curb, completely unaware that danger was closing in from every direction.
Then he saw Dante Romano.
The two men's eyes met across the busy street.
Neither of them smiled.
Neither of them looked away.
No words were exchanged.
None were needed.
In that single moment, both men understood the same thing.
The war between the Moretti and Romano families had just begun.
- Writer
