The Don's Forbidden Heir

The Rules

The message from the Don came promptly after breakfast.

Mrs Caruso appeared at Elara's door, her expression perfectly neutral as always, and informed her that the Don wanted to see her in his study.

It wasn't a request.

Elara followed her downstairs.

Vincenzo's study was imposing despite its lack of windows. Dark wood covered the walls, and the heavy furniture made the room feel smaller than it was.

Vincenzo sat behind a large mahogany desk, studying a file.

Matteo stood nearby, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression unreadable. Two silent bodyguards flanked the doorway.

Vincenzo didn't offer her a seat.

"You've been here for four days," he said. "I believe it's time you understood the rules regarding your stay here."

Elara arched an eyebrow. "I thought I was already following the rules. This place has nice sheets, and I haven't tried to leave yet."

Matteo's jaw ticked.

Vincenzo slowly raised his eyes from the file.

"You are not a prisoner," he said. "But you are a Moretti, whether you choose to accept that or not. And while you live beneath this roof, there are expectations."

Elara folded her arms. "Of course there are."

His expression hardened.

"We are a close and familial organization. Disrespect is not tolerated here—from outsiders or from members of this family."

He closed the folder in front of him.

"These are your rules."

He went through them one by one.

She wasn't permitted to leave the estate without an approved escort or Matteo.

Contact with people from her old life would be restricted until Vincenzo was satisfied they posed no security risk.

Family dinners, functions, and gatherings were mandatory.

She was to accept whatever security arrangements were made for her without argument.

She was not to interfere in Moretti business, particularly matters that concerned the family's operations.

And the east wing was now strictly forbidden.

Elara's stomach tightened at that one.

So they knew.

She kept her expression carefully blank.

Vincenzo continued as though he hadn't noticed.

"Finally, you will conduct yourself with the proper respect while inside this house. Deliberate disobedience will have consequences."

When he finished, silence stretched across the room.

Elara looked from Vincenzo to Matteo and back again.

Then she asked the one question she wasn't entirely sure she wanted answered.

"And what happens if I don't?"

Vincenzo leaned back in his chair.

"You'll find that Matteo can be very creative when dealing with disobedience. I've given him full discretion over any problems involving your security or behavior."

Elara's gaze snapped toward Matteo.

He was already watching her.

The same unsettling intensity she'd seen in the training room was there again, except there was no mat between them now.

She turned back to her father.

"You cannot possibly think this is reasonable. I'm not a little girl."

"No," Vincenzo said. "You're a Moretti who has spent nineteen years living without understanding what that name means."

"I didn't ask for the name."

"You inherited it."

"I didn't ask for that either."

Something flickered across Vincenzo's face, but it disappeared too quickly for her to identify.

"You may dislike me," he said. "You may dislike this house. You may even hate what your mother kept from you. None of that changes what you are."

Elara's hands curled into fists at her sides.

"And what exactly am I?"

"My daughter."

The words landed harder than she expected.

Not because there was affection in them.

There wasn't.

He said them like a declaration of ownership.

"Which means," Vincenzo continued, "that your actions no longer affect only you. Other families know you exist now. Some will see you as leverage. Others will see you as a weakness. Until you understand the world you've been brought into, you will follow my rules."

Elara felt her heartbeat hammering against her throat.

"So I just leave, then?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

She tilted her chin.

"I walk straight out the main gate. Problem solved. You don't have to teach me respect, obedience, or whatever else you've decided I desperately need."

Matteo moved before Vincenzo could answer.

Three strides brought him directly in front of her.

Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

"Don't."

His voice was quiet.

That somehow made it worse.

Elara held his stare. "Don't what?"

"Test how far you can get."

Her pulse jumped.

Matteo leaned slightly closer.

"If you walk through those gates without authorization, I'll bring you back myself."

"Maybe I won't come willingly."

Something changed in his eyes.

"Then I'll carry you."

Elara swallowed.

Neither of them looked away.

For one strange, suspended moment, she almost forgot Vincenzo was sitting only a few feet away.

Then his voice cut through the silence.

"I believe you have your answer."

Matteo stepped aside immediately.

Elara glared at both men before turning toward the door.

She walked out with her head held high, refusing to let either of them see the slight tremor in her fingers.

Only when she'd rounded the corner and disappeared into the familiar halls did she finally release the breath she'd been holding.

Four days.

She had been inside the Moretti estate for only four days, and already they had given her rules about where she could go, whom she could see, what she could say, and how she was expected to behave.

There was only one problem.

Elara had never been particularly good at following rules.

And now Vincenzo Moretti had been kind enough to give her an entire list of them.

Rebellion seemed inevitable.