THE MORETTI LEGACY

The city never shut up. Not even when the streetlights got all tired and flickered at midnight, and it felt like the world should just take a breath. Isabella Romano had gotten used to it , taxis honking far away, voices coming out of bars late at night, or a siren screaming. She actually liked the noise, the beat of a city that was always awake. It felt like being free. Well, it used to. She was at the university library super late again with her arms loaded with sketchbooks and notes. Getting a law degree meant long nights, like tonight. The sidewalk outside was all shiny from the rain earlier, and the neon signs looked all broken up in the puddles. Isabella walked fast, her heels clicking, her curls bouncing as she went. She should have just walked down the main road. She always thought that. But the alley was faster, and she was beat. Her dad would yell at her if he knew she was walking home alone so late, but he wasn’t around. Anyway, Isabella was tired of being treated like she would break. She was twenty-two, on her own, and liked it that way. She fixed her bag strap and started humming when she heard voices. Guys talking low, rough, and angry. She stopped dead. The alley got narrow and dark except for one streetlight that kept flickering. That's when she saw them. Three guys were there, and one was on his knees between the other two. The guy on his knees had a b****y face, and his shirt was all sweaty and stuck to him. One of the other guys was smiling mean, and he was holding the kneeling guy’s head down hard. And then she saw him. The other guy was tall, with wide shoulders, and he just seemed to take up all the space. He had on a black suit, and his dark hair was slicked back and shiny. But his eyes were something else – cold, calculating, and golden-brown, like looking at a knife. Dante Moretti. Isabella didn’t know him, not really. But she’d heard things. Everyone had. His name meant something ,fear, respect. He wasn’t just some guy. He, the heir to a crime family. And she was staring right at him. “Please Dante, I swear the guy on his knees choked out, his voice cracking as blood ran down his face. Dante didn’t even blink. His voice was calm, like he was disappointed. “You had one job. One rule. Be loyal. And you sold it to Greco like it was nothing.” The guy whimpered. “It wasn’t— it was a mistake—” Dante pulled out a pistol from his jacket like it was nothing, Isabella gasped. She knew she should go. Run. Pretend she didn’t see anything. But she couldn't. Her heart was pounding so hard. “You know what it costs to cross me,” Dante said. And then a shot rang out. It was super loud. Isabella jumped, and her bag fell off her shoulder and hit the ground. Dante looked up fast. His eyes locked on hers. Everything just stopped for a second. Isabella gasped, her hands shaking, and she took a step back. The dead man fell forward, and blood started spreading around him, but Dante was only looking at her. He had seen her. The other two guys looked at each other and started reaching for guns. Isabella's pulse was super fast. She turned to go, but Dante said, “Don’t.” Just like that. Quiet, and sharp. She froze, and every muscle got tight. Dante walked toward her, quiet as anything. He looked at her like a predator – calm, sure of himself. She wanted to scream. She wanted to beg. But she couldn't, too scared to talk. “What’s your name?” His voice didn't go up at the end, more like a command than a question. Isabella swallowed hard. “I—I don’t—” “Your name,” he said again, slower. She could lie. She should lie. But she just said, “Isabella.” He smiled, just a little, and said, “Isabella,” like he was trying it out. The other guys were getting impatient. “Boss,” one said, “She saw it all.” “Yes,” Dante said, still looking at her. “She did.” Isabella’s breath caught. She was trapped. What was he going to do? But then Dante did something she never would have guessed. He reached for her hand. He held it firm, and cool. He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them in a way that made her shiver. Then he said, “She didn’t see anything. She’s my wife.” Everyone just stared. Isabella’s heart stopped. Wife? What was he talking about? She started to yell, but Dante held her hand tighter to warn her. His eyes told her to play along or die. The world went sideways. Her life ended right there, in that alley, with blood on the ground. And Dante Moretti’s hold on her life had just begun.