Blood and Promises

The Hunt Begins

The roar of the engine echoed along the winding road as Nico drove with almost mechanical precision, taking each turn without hesitation. His mind was focused, analyzing every detail of Elena’s escape. He had already received the first clue: a taxi had been seen leaving the vicinity of the mansion shortly before chaos erupted. It was obvious she had planned this in advance. But where would she go? Nico knew Elena was smart, and that only made things more complicated.

In the backseat of the taxi, Elena took a deep breath, feeling a hint of freedom for the first time in weeks. The driver, an elderly man with gray hair, was a familiar face, though they had barely exchanged words before that day. She had chosen him precisely for that reason: discreet and trustworthy.

“Are you sure you want me to take you there?” he asked, his tone laced with slight concern.

“Absolutely,” she replied firmly. “Don’t worry. You just need to drop me off near the train station.”

She looked out the window, watching the Sicilian countryside blur past. It was hard to believe she had actually managed to escape. The wedding dress had been left hanging in her room, a symbol of what she refused to become. A doll in her father’s hands. A bargaining chip in the game between two families. Elena didn’t know exactly what she would do next, but she knew anything was better than going back.

Meanwhile, at the Moretti mansion, the tension was palpable. Alessandro sat in his father’s office, sipping a glass of whiskey with an ironic smile on his face.

“Well, this is interesting,” he said, swirling the glass in his hand. “Our dear Elena really knows how to put on a show.”

Vittorio, however, wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He maintained his usual composed demeanor, but his eyes betrayed a controlled fury. He knew Elena’s escape wasn’t just an insult; it was a threat to the family’s position. And now, all eyes were on him, waiting for his reaction.

“Nico is already handling it,” Vittorio stated coldly as he lit a cigar. “He’ll find her and bring her back. Whatever it takes.”

Alessandro raised an eyebrow, visibly intrigued.

“And what happens when she comes back? Are you going to force her to marry Enzo?”

Vittorio took a long drag from the cigar before responding.

“She’ll do what’s necessary to protect this family. Whether she likes it or not.”

Nico, meanwhile, was already on Elena’s trail. He had followed the lead to the nearest train station, where the taxi had last been seen. Walking among the hurried passengers, he observed everything with trained eyes. It was only a matter of time before he found her. He knew how people thought when they were running. He knew that, sooner or later, Elena would make a mistake.

And that’s exactly what happened.

At a café inside the station, Nico spotted a red scarf left on a table. It was a small detail, but he knew it belonged to her. He approached the waitress who was cleaning the table.

“The woman who was sitting here, where did she go?” he asked, his voice low and direct.

The waitress, initially hesitant, eventually pointed toward the platforms.

“I think I saw her board the train to Rome.”

Nico nodded and moved on, time running against him. He boarded the train just minutes before it departed, but he didn’t see her anywhere. Still, he knew she was there.

Sitting in one of the cars, Elena kept her head down, the hood of her coat hiding her fiery red hair. She knew Nico might be after her — it was exactly what her father would do, without a doubt. And Nico was the obvious choice. He was the family’s watchdog, the trusted man who always got the job done. Elena knew him only by name and reputation, but that was enough to understand he was dangerous.

However, she also knew she wouldn’t be easy to catch.

As the train headed toward Rome, Elena began planning her next move. She didn’t have much money, but she had one thing her father could never take from her: her determination. And, if necessary, she would use that determination to escape even Nico himself.

The De Luca Fallout

The silence in the Moretti mansion was broken only by hurried footsteps and raised voices. In the grand meeting room, tensions had reached a boiling point. The De Luca family, led by Francesco De Luca, stood furious and inconsolable, while Vittorio Moretti remained seated in his leather chair, smoking a cigar with apparent calm. The calm of a man used to chaos but fully aware that this night would forever change the balance between the families.

“This is an unforgivable insult!” Francesco shouted, his fists clenched and his face red with rage. “Your daughter has not only humiliated my son but disgraced our entire family. This is a declaration of war, Vittorio!”

Next to Francesco, Enzo De Luca remained silent, but his expression was dark, almost icy. He had been publicly humiliated, left at the altar in front of hundreds of guests. For him, there was no way to repair that insult.

“Don’t think you’ll get away with this, Moretti,” Francesco continued. “Elena will be hunted like the animal she is. It doesn’t matter where she hides; she will pay with her life for the shame she brought to the De Luca family.”

Alessandro Moretti, sitting off to the side, gave a sardonic half-smile, as if the entire situation were a spectacle he observed from a distance. But even he understood the gravity of what had just unfolded.

“Francesco,” Vittorio finally spoke, his voice deep and measured, “you’re overreacting. Of course, the situation is... unpleasant, but threatening my daughter is not the wisest course of action.”

Francesco stepped closer, glaring at Vittorio with unrelenting fury.

“This conversation is over. From now on, the Morettis are our enemies. And I promise you, Vittorio, there will be no peace between our families as long as Elena is alive.”

Francesco turned abruptly, storming out of the room, followed by his men and by Enzo, who cast one last look of pure contempt before leaving. The echo of their footsteps fading down the hallway left an oppressive silence in the room. Vittorio slowly extinguished his cigar, his face unreadable, though his eyes betrayed the growing concern.

Later that night, when the house had quieted down, Vittorio picked up the phone and called Nico. He knew there was only one person he could trust to handle the situation.

Nico answered on the second ring, his voice calm and direct as always.

“Vittorio.”

“I need you to find Elena as soon as possible,” Vittorio said, wasting no time. “There’s no room for subtlety anymore. The De Luca family wants her dead. Francesco has declared war, and knowing that man, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

On the other end of the line, Nico was silent for a moment before responding.

“And what do you want me to do when I find her?”

“Hide her. Take her far away, somewhere no one can find her. Not even Alessandro. You will report only to me. Do you understand? No one else can know where she is.”

Nico nodded, even though Vittorio couldn’t see him.

“Understood.”

Before Vittorio could hang up, Nico added, “Is that all?”

Vittorio paused, as if he knew exactly what Nico really meant. He sighed.

“That’s all, Nico. I trust you.”

When the call ended, Nico tossed the phone onto the seat beside him and leaned back in the car. The day had already been long enough, but now things had become infinitely more complicated. He muttered to himself, exasperation dripping from his voice:

“Of course... risking my life because of a spoiled girl’s whims. Just what I needed.”

Starting the engine, he drove off to continue the search. For Nico, this was just another job, but deep down, he knew this one would be very different from all the others.