Chapter 1
Chapter One
Nobody was allowed inside the room at the end of the west wing.
Nobody knew what was behind the black doors.
Not the servants.
Not the guards.
Not even his father.
Damian Moretti had forbidden anyone from entering.
And nobody dared disobey him.
The lock clicked behind Giovanni as he stepped inside.
His eyes immediately fell on the walls.
Photographs.
Hundreds of them.
A little girl.
Growing up.
Smiling.
Sleeping.
Laughing.
Living a life Damian had apparently been watching from the shadows.
A bookshelf stood against the far wall, filled with things she loved—her favorite novels, childhood toys, little souvenirs, things she'd once mentioned liking.
Giovanni's breathing stopped.
He looked at his son.
Damian stood beside the window, perfectly calm.
“You're going to marry her mother.”
Giovanni's face went pale.
“Yes.”
No argument.
No hesitation.
He knew better.
Damian turned slowly.
“And you're bringing her here.”
“Yes, Damian.”
Giovanni's voice was barely above a whisper.
Damian walked toward him.
His father immediately stepped back.
The movement was instinctive.
Damian noticed.
He always noticed.
Everyone was afraid of him.
But Giovanni's fear was different.
He knew what Damian had been capable of since childhood.
When Damian was five, his mother had died.
The official story was an accident.
The records had been altered.
Every trace of what really happened had disappeared.
Only the Moretti family knew the truth.
Damian had killed his own mother.
And nobody had ever dared speak about it.
Not once.
Not even Giovanni.
Because the little boy who had committed that crime had grown into a man far more dangerous.
Damian glanced toward the photographs.
“She doesn't know about this place.”
Giovanni shook his head quickly.
“She won't.”
“She doesn't know about me.”
“No.”
A faint smile appeared on Damian's lips.
“She will.”
Giovanni stared at his son.
“Damian... please.”
Damian's eyes snapped toward him.
His father immediately fell silent.
The room became deathly quiet.
Then Damian stepped closer.
“You have one job.”
Giovanni nodded.
“Bring her to me.”
“Yes.”
“And don't disappoint me.”
Giovanni swallowed hard.
“I won't.”
Damian opened the door.
Giovanni practically fled.
Behind him, the door locked.
And Damian returned to the photographs.
He picked up the oldest one.
A little girl with a missing front tooth.
His smile returned.
“Soon.”
The door shut behind Damian.
For several seconds, Giovanni didn't move.
He simply stared at the door.
Then his composure shattered.
“Damn it!”
His fist slammed into the desk.
Books crashed to the floor.
A glass shattered against the wall.
He swept everything within reach onto the ground, his breathing ragged with fury and fear.
How had his son become this?
How could a child grow into something so terrifying?
Giovanni ran a trembling hand through his hair.
Then—
Footsteps.
He froze.
His head snapped toward the door.
The handle moved.
Damian stepped back inside.
Everything in Giovanni changed instantly.
The anger vanished.
His shoulders dropped.
His head lowered.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
Damian looked around at the mess.
Then at his father.
He said nothing.
Giovanni didn't dare raise his eyes.
Damian slowly walked past him.
Only after the door closed again did Giovanni finally breathe.
---
Somewhere in Europe
“I'm graduating!”
Her voice echoed through the dance studio.
She spun across the polished floor, laughing as her classmates cheered.
For the first time in years, there was nothing weighing on her heart.
No deadlines.
No exams.
No rehearsals until midnight.
Just freedom.
She had done it.
Years of dancing.
Years of music.
Years of bruised feet and exhausted nights.
And now she was finally graduating from the academy.
She stared at herself in the mirror.
Simple white dress.
Barely any makeup.
Her hair loosely tied back.
She didn't need anything extravagant.
She had always been beautiful without trying.
Her friends surrounded her, taking pictures and laughing.
“So what's next?” one of them asked.
She grinned.
“Stages.”
She had dreamed about it since she was a little girl.
Real stages.
Bright lights.
Music filling enormous halls.
Her dancing becoming her life.
And now it was finally happening.
But there was something she was even more excited about.
Home.
Her mother.
She hadn't seen her in far too long.
She had already packed her suitcase.
Her passport was in her bag.
Her flight was booked.
Tomorrow, she would be home.
She smiled as she looked at the photograph of her mother on her phone.
“I'm coming home, Mom.”
The next morning, she woke up smiling.
For once, there was no alarm screaming beside her bed.
No instructor demanding another rehearsal.
No aching muscles.
She was free.
She stretched beneath the blankets, then immediately reached for her phone.
Mom: I'm so proud of you. Come home soon.
Her smile grew.
“I will.”
She spent the morning packing.
There wasn't much.
A few dresses.
Her dance shoes.
Her music notebooks.
The little things she'd collected during her years abroad.
She paused when she found an old photograph tucked inside one of her books.
Her mother.
And her.
She was barely six.
She smiled at the memory.
Home had always meant her mother.
Nothing more.
Nothing complicated.
Just her mother's warm hugs, familiar cooking, and the little apartment where she'd grown up dreaming about becoming a dancer.
She zipped her suitcase shut.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she'd finally be home.
---
Across the ocean, a black car pulled up outside the Moretti estate.
Giovanni stepped out.
He looked exhausted.
A man approached him.
“Everything is arranged.”
Giovanni nodded.
“The marriage?”
“Everything.”
“And the girl?”
The man hesitated.
“She lands tomorrow.”
Giovanni's jaw tightened.
Tomorrow.
He looked toward the mansion.
For a moment, he considered stopping everything.
Then he remembered Damian's eyes.
His stomach turned.
“Bring her to the estate.”
“Yes, sir.”
Giovanni walked inside.
He stopped halfway through the foyer.
At the top of the staircase stood Damian.
Watching.
Waiting.
Giovanni lowered his eyes immediately.
“She's coming tomorrow,” he said.
Damian said nothing.
He simply smiled.
And somewhere thousands of miles away, completely unaware of what waited for her, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.
Tomorrow, she was going home.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
