Chapter 4
588 Words
Chapter 4: The Brothers of Moretti
The low hum of a private jet settled into silence as the wheels touched down on the tarmac of Florence Airport. Lorenzo Moretti stepped off the plane, dressed in a tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt, and an expression as sharp as his jawline.
He inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of Italian soil.
Home.
Lorenzo hadn’t been back in nearly a year. Running the family’s international operations across Eastern Europe and the Middle East had kept him away — but he was the kind of man who never lost control of anything, not even from a continent away.
A black car was waiting to take him to the villa.
At the Moretti Estate, the arrival of the prodigal son sent the household into a flurry of joy.
“Lorenzo!” his mother exclaimed, rushing down the marble steps with arms wide open. She was radiant in a silk apron, her silver hair pinned neatly. “Amore mio, finally!”
“Mamma,” he said with a rare smile, embracing her. “You haven’t changed.”
She cupped his face like he was still ten. “And you look thinner. Are you eating? I made ossobuco, your favorite.”
“I missed your cooking,” he admitted, slipping off his coat.
His father stood at the study door, already calling out, “Come, Lorenzo. We need to go over the Montenegro deal. The buyers are dragging their feet.”
Lorenzo turned with a small sigh and said to his mother, “See? I land and he’s already making me work.”
She swatted his arm. “That’s because you’re the only one who listens to him.”
As they walked to the dining room, she lowered her voice. “Talk to Christian. He’s... not like before. Always in the papers, always with some girl. I worry.”
Lorenzo nodded. “I’ll speak to him.”
Later that night, Lorenzo made his way to Verità, the Moretti brothers’ exclusive nightclub. Reserved for the elite and off-limits to the press, it was a playground of velvet shadows, bass-heavy music, and whispered power.
He found Christian in a private booth, lips locked with a woman whose dress barely existed.
The girl noticed Lorenzo and blushed, quickly fixing her top. Christian leaned back lazily, noticing his brother, and raised an eyebrow.
“Beat it,” he told the girl, not unkindly.
She obeyed with a pout.
Lorenzo sat across from him, already pouring himself a drink.
“Didn’t take you long to dive back into scandal,” he said, raising the glass.
Christian smirked. “Takes the edge off the day.”
Lorenzo sipped. “Mama’s worried.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “Mama worries if I skip breakfast.”
“She thinks you’re spiraling.”
“I’m not.” Christian leaned in, lowering his voice with a rare seriousness. “Actually... I’m planning to settle down.”
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “You?”
Christian gave him a grin — the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Shocking, right? But I’ve found someone.”
Lorenzo blinked. “That fast? Who is she?”
Christian swirled his drink. “No one you know. Yet.”
Lorenzo studied his brother’s face. He wasn’t lying — not exactly. But there was something else there. Something unreadable.
“Well,” he said finally, “I hope it’s not just another one of your games.”
Christian clinked his glass to his brother’s.
“This one’s different.”
- Writer
