The Will
Elara Voss narrowed her eyes at the reflection in the office window. Leather and expensive cologne mingled in the air, and the view was anything but welcoming. Outside, the grey sky hung heavily over midtown Manhattan. She was nineteen, a dropout from the local community college, and she still wore the same worn boots and frayed jacket from the morning. The three men before her, however, were most certainly not from this world.
Mr Harrington cleared his throat. “Miss Voss, your mother has requested that you be present for this reading. She asked specifically that the will be opened in your presence.” He gestured at the file in his hand. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to take this, you can inform yourself of your mother’s wishes.”
Elara’s stomach twisted at the thought. Three weeks ago, Lillian Voss, her mother, had died in an apparent overdose. It had been an unspectacular end, if one didn’t count the ten years of misery that had led up to it. She had stopped using drugs years ago. She had been methodical and reserved, never speaking of her life before.
“Let’s just get this over with then,” Elara muttered.
Harrington tossed a thick envelope on the table. “As your mother requested, you are to inherit everything she owned and the meager sum of cash that was in her possession, if any,” he droned, fixing his gaze on the two men who sat at the far end of the table. They both had a certain gravity about them, and the tailored black suits did little to hide the muscle on their frames. “However, there is one condition. Something she asked us to keep private, if you will.”
One of the men gave a slow smile. “Miss Voss. I am Salvatore, and I represent Don Vincenzo Moretti.”
At the sound of the name, Elara stiffened. She knew the name, of course. Everyone did. Vincenzo Moretti was one of the city’s most renowned mafia bosses.
Salvatore leaned forward, eyes boring into hers. “Your mother was not always Lillian Voss. She worked in our Don's household for fifteen years as his personal escort. In fact, she was his wife, in everything but name. You are his daughter, Miss Voss.”
Elara exhaled sharply, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s impossible. My mother never told me anything. ”
“She did,” Salvatore said, his voice as smooth as ever. He pushed a photograph toward her across the table. It was a faded one, showing a young Lillian, smiling broadly next to a man with sharp features and piercing eyes. He had his arm around her waist, his hand resting on the curve of her hip. “She kept it a secret to protect you. Vincenzo Donnelly, aka Moretti, provided for her during those years. And when she passed away, he asked us to come to you. You are to inherit everything that belongs to him, including his daughter.”
Elara’s hands trembled visibly as she gazed at the picture. She was staring at her mother, really looking at her for the first time in her life. But it was not the face that had taken her breath away. It was the man next to her mother, holding her like she was his world. “I don’t want his money,” she said finally, her voice barely audible.
Salvatore gave a slow, sad smile. “It is not a question of want. The Don has insisted that you move into his estate tonight. You will have a car sent for you shortly. He expects you to bring only the bare necessities. Your apartment will be secured immediately following your arrival. Your new life starts tonight, Miss Voss.”
Elara turned her gaze toward Mr Harrington. The lawyer kept his eyes fixed on the wall ahead. “This is kidnapping,” she whispered.
Salvatore chuckled. “Not exactly. In our world, family is the only law that matters. And now, Miss Voss, you are family.”
One of the men rose from his chair and stepped toward the door. The other kept his gaze locked on Elara. “You may refuse, if that is your wish,” he said in a voice like sandpaper. “But understand that the car will come regardless of your decision. The men who will accompany you… well, they are not as patient as Salvatore here.”
Elara looked down at the photograph again, taking in the wide smile on her mother’s face. She had never seen her mother look that happy in real life. But then again, she had never seen this side of her mother either.
“Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll go.” She turned her gaze toward Salvatore. “But I’m not staying.”
The man smiled, his expression softening. “That will be up to the Don to decide.”
Salvatore and his men stood, signaling the end of the conversation. Elara watched them as they left the office, one of them pausing to give her a respectful nod before following Salvatore out the door. She sat motionless for a while, still gazing at the photograph. Her gaze softened as she watched the image of young Lillian Voss, smiling broadly next to the man who had claimed to be her father.
Outside, the thick black SUV was waiting.
As Elara stepped out, the door opened automatically. She climbed inside without another word. The door closed behind her with a deep thud.
